Under Your Skin
by Azul Tigress
Summary: After a mind swap, Warren, Layla and Lash learn more about each other and themselves than they could have imagined. Eventual pairings hint: one contains slash …
1. In Their Eyes

_**Under Your Skin**_

_Disclaimer:_ This story is based on characters and situations (although perhaps not the slashy ones!) created and owned by the Disney Corporation. I'm making no money from this, so please don't sue!

* * *

_Chapter 1: In Their Eyes_

_Layla_

Sometimes I feel like my life couldn't get any better. School's going great, I've got a great family, great friends and a great boyfriend. In short, if you haven't already guessed yet, everything is… well, great.

But if that's true, why does it feel empty, wrong? Like there's a piece of the jigsaw that doesn't quite fit, or there's something missing? It's always there, that feeling, lurking at the bottom of my thoughts even at my happiest moments, making everything seem hollow.

I can't understand it, and I can't tell anyone else about it because I know they won't understand it either. So, as I'm analytical by nature, I break down the component parts of my world and examine them in turn.

School: After the Homecoming insanity last year, Principal Powers tried to move me into the Hero stream, but I refused. I plan on staying in Hero Support and subverting the whole defective system. I really think it's starting to work. I'm getting straight A's in all my Hero Support classes without even having to use my powers.

My family: Me and my parents are pretty tight. Mom's work with endangered species takes her out of the country a lot of the time, so I'm closer to Dad. Dad's a civilian, but to me he's as much as a hero as Mom.

My friends: Magenta, Zach and Ethan may be branded sidekicks, but they're as brave and loyal as they come. I guess I should include Warren on that list, but even though I was the one who introduced him to the gang, we've grown apart over the last year. He divides his time between his girlfriend, Bianca Frost, and Will these days. The rest of us don't seem to exist anymore.

My boyfriend: What can I say about Will Stronghold? He's perfect – gorgeous, sweet and caring. I've known him all my life, it's like he's a part of me. I've waited for so long to have him and now I do.

Here he is now. He comes over and smiles at me, then kisses me hello. I close my eyes as I feel the pressure of his lips against mine. I know him like the back of my hand. But that's it. I suddenly realise that kissing him is like kissing the back of my hand – predictable, bland and… heartbreaking.

OK, looks like I've isolated the problem, but I just don't get it. I love him, he says he loves me, but why can't I feel happy?

What's wrong with me?

_Warren_

I stop kissing her for a moment and just look at her. She's amazing, she really is. There are times when she blows my mind. We hooked up at Homecoming last year. Before that night, I'd barely had one full conversation with her. But when our when our fingertips brushed together on the dancefloor, the steam began. She fascinated me.

In many ways, she's my polar opposite. Fire and ice. Yin and yang. Me and Freeze Girl. We balance each other out. I fire her up and she cools me down. I never thought this could happen to me. That someone would actually want me. Need me. That I could ever want anyone.

Yeah, I know its pretty textbook stuff – emotionally damaged in formative years, puts up barriers to prevent getting hurt ever again. I was always on the edge, not wanting to be near anyone or show up on anyone's radar. A loner who just wanted to stay out of trouble. The bad boy tag came with the name, it's not like I purposely went round intimidating people or anything. But then I'd never back down from a fight either.

OK, so maybe the whole 'I never went round purposely intimidating people' bit is not entirely true. I did try to terrorize one person last year, but that didn't work. Will Stronghold. The school Golden Boy. I looked at him and I burned up inside. I despised him. And I couldn't get away from him, he was everywhere. In the halls, in the cafeteria. In my head. I was obsessed. I couldn't stop thinking about him and how his dad had totally ruined my life. Then I exploded. I have a tendency to do that sometimes. But he stood up to me and held his own. And somehow we became best buddies.

Here he is now. He gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder, but it hurts like hell and I fall against my locker and onto my knees. He has no idea how strong he is. How much pain he can cause. He can't stop saying sorry as he helps me up. He has his hand in mine only for the briefest second, but a wave of heat rises through me. My face feels like it's on fire, but its not. He flashes me an apologetic smile and hurries off to class.

All of a sudden I feel something cold on my arm. I shiver as my blood turns to ice.

Oh yeah. Bianca. I almost forgot about her.

_Lash_

I used to frickin' love high school. Me and my man Speed would prowl these corridors like we owned the place. Hell, we did own the place. That stupid bitch Principal Powers had no idea what we used to get up to. And the others? Mr Medulla is holed up in the mad science lab most of his life, our unbeaten record in Save the Citizen meant we could do no wrong in Coach Boomer's eyes. As for Mr Boy? Don't make me laugh. The guy is a total loser.

Oh, it was so sweet tormenting those little freshmen and those sidekicks. And the sidekicks that were freshmen were particularly sweet! Hah! I remember one time some little dickweed sidekick actually peed his pants he was that scared about what me and Speed were gonna do to him! Man, those were the days.

The days before Will Stronghold showed up. When we heard that the son of two of the most powerful heroes was coming to Sky High, we thought we'd gotten ourselves a potential partner in crime. The kid of the Commander and Jetstream had to be something special, and even though he was only a freshman, we would have been happy for him to hang with us. Till we found out he didn't have any powers, that is, and that he was just a reject sidekick.

But then he got his super-strength and he thought he was better than all of us. When him and Peace beat me and Speed at Save the Citizen I didn't think I could hate someone so much. I was wrong. When I wound up in jail after he put a stop to Royal Pain's masterplan, I realised my hatred was limitless. It's good to have something to focus on when you're in prison. Helps pass the time.

Here he is now. The jerk. Ughh, it makes me wanna puke how he goes around smiling at everyone and shaking their hand, like he's running for President or something. And all those idiots lap it up. They all want a piece of the wonderful William Stronghold. I let go of the shaking sidekick I'm about to shove in a locker as he walks this way, glowering at me.

God, I really do _hate_ him. He thinks he's something else.

I know what I'd like to do to him.


	2. Spit It Out

_Chapter 2: Spit It Out_

Layla quietly observed Will's supine form from the branches of the birch tree she had manipulated to raise herself up to the roof outside his bedroom window. She knew she would find him there. He had been doing this since he was seven years old. Whenever Will was feeling worried, he would retreat to this spot at night, hugging his knees to his chest and staring numbly at the stars. But tonight, the sky was overcast, the stars obscured, and Will lay on the roof tiles, his eyes closed.

Soft raindrops began to fall on Layla's face as she continued to watch him. The steady rise and fall of his broad chest was the only part of him that was moving. If Will had noticed it had started to rain, he gave no outward sign of this. He had clearly recently finished a hard workout and still seemed to be powered up. Veins protruded from the thick muscles on his arms and his well-developed pectoral muscles strained against his white cotton t-shirt. He would have looked peaceful if it were not for the deep frown that had settled on his forehead and had drifted down to the rest of his face.

Even though she knew every contour of his body, even though she had seen that face virtually everyday of her entire life, Layla was tempted to stare at him all night. But, as Layla looked at Will, she felt a tight fist inside her chest slowly squeezing the air out of her. Just watching him lately made her want to cry for no discernible reason.

The birch's pendulous catkins brushed Layla's face as she lightly stepped off the branch and onto the roof. Will's eyes snapped open as he sensed Layla's body weight on the tiles. He pushed himself into an upright sitting position and gave Layla a weak smile.

"Hey you," Layla said gently as she sat next to him and slid her hand over his knee. "What's wrong?"

Will sighed. His light blue eyes were downcast, the frown lingering on his features.

"Just had a rough day, that's all."

Layla waved her hand. The birch's leaves grew to the size of saucers, shielding them from the increasingly heavy rain.

"Come on, Will. Tell me."

Will's hair was starting to curl in the damp night air. He pushed it from his eyes and held his head in his hands.

"It's Mad Science. I just can't do it, I really can't. And Medulla seems to get off on persecuting me. Every time one of my experiments goes wrong, he gets the class to gather round to see how it shouldn't be done and have a good laugh." Will idly picked up a loose tile and held it tightly in his palm. "He makes me feel stupid. Like I'm nothing but a lump of muscle." Will opened his hand and a trail of rubble trickled out.

Layla took Will's chin in her hand and turned his face to hers. He looked like a lost child, alone and scared.

"Will, you are not stupid."

Will snorted. "Hmmph. I've got a report card that says otherwise." He removed a creased piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and handed to Layla. It was true. Will was failing Mad Science abysmally.

"And we've got exams in a few weeks. There is no way I'm going to even scrape a pass!" He looked completely dejected.

"You can do it, Will. Your confidence has been knocked, that's all. Don't listen to Medulla. He's probably jealous of you."

Will looked at her incredulously.

"And how d'you figure that one out?"

"Because you're everything he isn't. He's probably spent his whole life a science geek hating people like you. But he should be encouraging you, not belittling you all the time."Layla was smiling reassuringly, but Will did not seem entirely convinced.

The rain was now falling thickly and Layla inhaled the crisp scent of wet leaves. It was one of her favourite smells. She could also smell Will's sweat mingled with the fresh rain. Another favourite smell of hers. He looked so gorgeous in his damp clothes. She had intended on offering more words of comfort, but instead leaned her body into his and kissed him deeply. But, not for the first time, she felt a sense of emptiness. She pulled away, her mouth throbbing. She could feel her desire welling up, but… nothing…

Will looked at her. "What's wrong?"

Layla twisted a chunky floral ring around her slender fingers. She couldn't carry on like this, it was too much. "Will, do you love me?"

"What? Yeah… of course I do."

Layla took a deep breath then asked, "Do you _want_ me?"

He hesitated and looked down at his hands, examining his fingernails. "I'm not sure what you mean," he said quietly.

"Maybe I'm being paranoid, Will, but whenever I kiss you I feel… nothing. I get the impression that you don't enjoy it."

Will was silent for too long. Layla knew then that she was right. When he started to speak again, neither of them noticed how the birch leaves slowly shrunk back to their normal size, then wither and fall from the tree.

"I'm sorry, Layla, but it doesn't feel right. I love you, and you're beautiful, but I just don't feel… I mean, it was great in the beginning, but now…"

That hard fist began wringing Layla's lungs again.

"…I mean, we're sixteen. This is supposed to happen when you've been married for thirty years. Not now."

Layla couldn't believe this was happening. She knew in her soul that Will was the one; she'd seen their future in her mind's eye – the wedding, their children, growing old together. She noticed that Will had started to cry.

"I've been thinking how to tell you this, but I'm so scared of losing you. I couldn't stand it, Layla," he managed. He looked more lost than ever.

So, it was really over. And this is how it feels to have your life unravel before you, she thought.

"You will never lose me, Will," Layla said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded. "You've hurt me, but I could never stop loving you."

Will reached for her hand, but Layla drew back as if stung.

"Don't. Just don't." The composure she had managed to maintain evaporated and she broke down into a fit of gulping sobs as she grabbed blindly for the tree branch. She lowered herself to the ground and ran to her house, unaware that every plant turned russet and gold as she sped past them.

* * *

They looked like any ordinary young couple as they navigated their way through shimmering puddles in the dull light of the street lamps arm in arm. The girl, dressed in white and holding a white umbrella, suddenly decided to splash her tall male companion. She darted away giggling, her long, blonde hair flying about her shoulders. He chased after her, also laughing, and nearly caught up with her when he slipped on an unexpected patch of ice.

"Hey, you always play dirty, Bianca!"

She smiled mischievously. "And that's how you like it."

Warren lunged at her, and this time Bianca did not run. He kissed her slowly, feeling her body melt into his. Bianca tasted of the cherry vanilla Haagen-Dazs she had been eating earlier, sweet and creamy. Her lips were cold, it felt as if she were planting a trail of ice on his cheek and neck. Warren wondered if she was thinking that his were too hot. She drew back from him and gave him a wide, contented smile, revealing her perfect white teeth. Bianca really was the most beautiful girl Warren had ever seen.

"Next time, I choose the movie. Anything with Sandra Bullock in it is guaranteed to be goddamn awful," he said as she slipped an icy hand into his. Warren shivered slightly.

"No way!" Bianca laughed. "You'd pick some Vin Diesel crap with car chases and explosions."

They continued to walk down the street. The metal tips on Bianca's heels clattered loudly against the asphalt and Warren only half-listened as she chattered on about her friends. Girl talk. Can you believe so-and-so said this to such-and-such, blah, blah, blah. Bianca and her friends were among the popular elite at Sky High, but for all their air-kissing and squealing whenever they saw one another, they didn't seem to actually like each other very much. Warren found them objectionable, and he knew the feeling was mutual. He thought they were vain, vacuous and often vindictive, and he didn't really care what they thought of him.

But Bianca was different. Warren thought that no-one would ever want him the way she did. It sounded corny, but she made him feel special. Although she did have a nasty side to her. She never directed any malice towards Warren, but he did catch her mocking one of her sidekick peers for wearing the wrong shoes the other day. This troubled Warren somewhat, but he put it down to the influence of her bitchy friends.

Bianca stopped at the street corner. "It's OK, Warren. I'll be fine from here."

"But we're nearly there. Let me at least walk you to your door."

"No, honestly it's OK," said Bianca firmly. The light was poor, but Warren thought that her pale cheeks were tinged pink.

"But… Oh, it's your dad, isn't it?" There was a hard edge to Warren's voice as he removed his hand from hers.

"Daddy's just very protective, that's all," she said placatingly.

"Right. So it's not because you're ashamed of me or anything?"

"No, of course not," Bianca said a little too quickly. Warren's face darkened.

"So, what's the problem?"

"Daddy just wants someone worthy of me…"

"And I'm not?" said Warren, his eyes narrowed.

"No! No, it's not you, it's your fath…" Bianca managed to stop herself before the whole sentence emerged, but she instantly wished she could swallow the words back. Warren flinched.

"I am not my father." He spoke almost in a whisper. Bianca never felt the cold, but the glacial chill emanating from Warren's tone made her shudder violently.

"Warren, I'm sorry, I'm saying it all wrong," she pleaded. "I'm not saying you are. It's just…"

"It's just I'm not good enough for you because my dad's a villain. Don't worry, Bianca. It's pretty fucking clear what you're saying."

"N-no… I…"

"Of all the people, I never expected this of you." For one horrible moment, Warren looked as if he was going to cry. That look cut Bianca deeper than if he had physically lashed out at her. She had never seen Warren in tears before, and to think she was the one who had caused it… But he quickly rubbed his face with a gloved hand, and when he lifted his hand away, his expression was changed to white-hot rage. He turned away from her and walked off into the rain.

"Warren… wait!"

But he was gone.

* * *

Warren did not speak to Bianca the next day at school. He ignored her tears and her apologies. He wanted nothing more to do with her. He knew that people couldn't understand it. He overheard someone ask why a loser like Peace would dump a hottie like Bianca Frost, but he was used to people gossiping about him.

Not wanting to face either Bianca or his friends in the cafeteria, Warren took his lunch outside. He walked towards the front steps and spotted Will already sitting there in the baking sun. Warren almost turned around, pretending he hadn't seen him when he saw that Will looked as miserable as he felt. Will's shoulders were hunched over, his sandwich uneaten in his hand. He seemed oblivious to the other students jostling around him. Warren was surprised to note the pang of concern he felt for his friend despite his own problems.

"Stronghold, let me guess – women trouble?" Will didn't even look up.

"Partly. School's pretty crap too."

Will turned to him. Warren looked pale and dishevelled, his eyes shadowed with dark circles.

"God, Warren, you look like shit!"

"Jeez, thanks!" Warren mumbled as he unwrapped his lunch.

"Are you OK?"

"Nope, not really."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope, not really."

Warren could see that Will was bursting to tell him his problems. This is what happens when you have a female best friend for most of your life, he thought. You want to analyse everything, talk about your feelings all the time. What was the point of that?

"Me and Layla split up..."

Warren's eyes widened. That was the last thing he expected Will to say. He had thought that Will and Layla had probably had some lover's tiff on whose turn it was to hang up the phone. Well, it certainly explained why all the grass on the school grounds had shrivelled and turned to straw. And why Magenta was glaring daggers at Will as she walked by them.

"..and I'm failing Mad Science. My life officially sucks."

Warren silently ate his sandwich for a while.

"I could help you, if you want, with tutoring," he said, tentatively.

Will considered this. Warren was actually pretty good at Mad Science. Not quite mad genius level, but he certainly had an aptitude for it. "I don't know, it's a lot to ask of you, Warren. You've got your own studies to deal with."

"It's no trouble," Warren replied with a devilish grin. "And I promise I won't kiss you, or try to destroy the school."

Will almost choked on his sandwich, his ears crimson. "W-what?"

"It's called a joke, Stronghold. Y'know, because your last tutor did that?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Royal Pain. Right."

"God, Stronghold, you _are_ dumb!" Warren chuckled as he thumped Will playfully on the shoulder. "What am I letting myself in for?"

Will rubbed the spot where Warren had hit him. Warren wondered why, as it wasn't as if the strongest punch he could muster would cause even the slightest bruise on Will's invulnerable skin.


	3. Demons

_Chapter 3: Demons_

Warren felt a tormenting mix of anger, shame and fierce protectiveness as his teary mother discovered the charred remains of their meal in the over-hot oven. Why did today have to be one of her bad days? She apologised anxiously as they ate their takeout pizza at the dining table of the modest apartment, and Warren felt the heat sear his hands. If Will said anything at all, if he gave any indication that he found any of this the slightest bit amusing… Warren wrestled against the urge to set his fists aflame. But of course Will was nothing but gracious and polite. He had an enviable, easy charm that people instantly warmed to. He even made Mrs Peace laugh with some lame joke about how he'd eat pizza for breakfast if his mom would let him.

He knew it was inevitable, but Warren nevertheless had hoped to avoid it. For the last week, he had been spending every evening he wasn't doing a shift at the Paper Lantern at the Stronghold house. He was surprised at how patient he was with Will and how vicariously happy he was at his progress. He was also surprised that he wasn't really missing Bianca. Or even thinking about her at all, most of the time.

But what surprised Warren the most was the fact that he actually liked Will's dad. Perhaps Steve Stronghold was making a special effort in view of his past history with Warren's own father, but Warren found himself developing a grudging respect for the man. Mr Stronghold knew exactly what sort of person Barron Battle was, but he didn't recoil in Warren's presence or treat him with suspicion. Both of Will's parents were welcoming and seemed to genuinely like him.

And then Warren's mom asked why he was always going round Will's to study and why Warren never asked Will over to their place. Because I knew something like this would happen, Warren thought as he looked into his mother's red-rimmed eyes. The slightest thing would set off her tears these days. His mother, who had always been so strong, the one stabilising influence in Warren's life, seemed to be falling apart. There were days she didn't even get out of bed, burying her face into her pillow and sobbing inconsolably. There were days when she had no interest in anything. Warren supposed he should thankful that at least today she had managed to change out of her dressing gown.

They resumed the tutoring session in Warren's room after eating. Will sat on Warren's bed, drawing up a plan for a small-scale teleportation device. He chewed his bottom lip as he concentrated, his light brown hair falling over his eyes. When Warren realised he had been staring at Will for over five minutes, he quickly averted his gaze. As he looked around his small room, he wished that he had tidied up a bit before Will had come over. There was a pile of dirty clothes that Warren now regretted kicking into a corner. Why hadn't he just slung them in the laundry basket? He thought for a moment. And why did he even care? This was Stronghold, for Chrissakes. Did it really matter?

Will suddenly put his pencil down and looked at Warren with concerned blue eyes.

"Warren," he said hesitantly. "Your mom, is she OK?"

Warren stood up, his hands unconsciously curling into tight fists. Will's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Don't take this the wrong way, but she seems to be a little… under strain."

"She's fine. I think know how to look after my own mother, Stronghold," said Warren through gritted teeth.

"Look, I'm worried, that's all."

"Well, I didn't ask you to be."

"You didn't, but I am because you're my friend."

Warren hadn't realised that his left hand was blazing until Will covered it with his own. The flames licked Will's fingers, but he didn't wince. Warren felt the fire subside under Will's steady grip, but something else stirred in him at his touch. He was sure that Will would hear his heart thrashing against his ribcage as he looked at him with those damn eyes. Stronghold was worried. How could he be mad at that? But his mother was no-one's concern but his own. He wasn't about to tell Will anything. He didn't need his pity. He'd figure out a way to help his mother by himself, he'd have to. Who else did she have left? And what could he say to him, anyway? My mom cries a lot? It's not like she was addicted to drink or drugs. But she did seem dead inside…

Warren extracted his hand from Will's.

"I told you to leave it, Stronghold." Warren's face was flushed, his voice low.

Will looked as if he was about to say something, but then decided against pursuing the matter further. He didn't mention it to Warren again.

* * *

"Don't be so nice all the time, Layla. You can call him a bastard if you want to." 

"I don't want to."

"Fine, I'll do it for you then. Will Stronghold is a bastard and a total retard for letting you go."

Layla grinned at the girl with heavy kohl around her dark eyes and purple streaks in her hair lounging on the window seat. She couldn't hate Will or be angry with him; he couldn't help how he felt any more than she could. But it did feel good to have someone indignant on her behalf. Magenta was still refusing to speak to him.

"Maj, I just want him to be happy. And if he's happier not being with me, I'd rather him not be with me."

Magenta tutted and rolled her eyes to Layla's bedroom ceiling. "What did I just say to you about being nice? Stop it! He doesn't deserve someone like you, Layla."

Layla sighed as she leafed through the wad of papers in her hands. In a bid to distract herself, she had joined the school paper and was working on her first report, an expose of the fast food chain MacZees.

"Could you _be_ any more cliché, Eco Girl?" said Magenta, shaking her head. "Why don't you just do some banal story about prom? That's what the idiots at that place want to read, isn't it? Who's wearing what, who's doing who…" As much as Layla liked Magenta, the shapeshifter's idea of helping seemed to consist of playing loud music and providing an endless supply of sarcastic remarks. Layla typed on her laptop.

"There's a difference between wanting something and needing something, Maj," Layla said a little loftily as her fingers tapped the keyboard. "People might _want_ to read about the school dance, but they _need_ to know about the unethical practices of an exploitative multinational corporation."

"O-K," Magenta shrugged. "Whatever."

Magenta turned to look out of the window and snickered. "Aren't they supposed to be studying? Since when did Mr Medulla test on jump shot technique?"

"What?"

Layla got up and sat next to Magenta. The sun was setting, the rose pink sky a darkening blue. One or two brighter stars shone faintly. In the yard next door, two teenage boys were playing basketball. One was tall and dark and moved with a fluid grace as he bounced the ball effortlessly across the yard. The other boy was shorter, but well-built, and bounded after him like an excited puppy. Layla felt a stab at her chest. They both looked so happy. This was one of the many hazards of living next door to your ex, she thought miserably. You get to see him all the time.

"Wow," said Magenta in mock awe. "Warren Peace actually looks like he's enjoying himself. Who'da thought he could crack that face into a smile?"

The petals on the yellow orchid on Layla's window sill began to brown at the edges. Layla breathed slowly, trying to focus. She couldn't let her emotions take control, not this time. She had to be stronger. When she and Will first broke up, she had taken out all of the plant life in a three-mile radius of her house. The _Maxville Mercury _ran a front page story on the mysterious phenomenon, broadcasting her heartbreak to everyone who knew her. It was humiliating.

Layla closed her eyes and concentrated all her energy into the plant. For once, Magenta said nothing; she walked across the room and busied herself with Layla's CD collection. Layla's fingers prickled in that familiar way as she drew upon her chlorokinetic power. She breathed slowly and then opened her eyes. The flower stopped wilting, but she could not restore it to full bloom.

* * *

A heavy, leaden sky groaning with rain clouds loomed above Sky High the next morning. The crowds of students parted as Lash and Speed stalked past. Their short stint in Maxville High Security Prison had earned them a certain amount of notoriety and the air was punctuated with nervous whispers as they went by. People were scared of them. Good, thought Lash. Fear bred respect, and he thought it was about time him and Speed got some respect. 

Speed grunted as he bit into the chocolate cupcake he was holding and he vaguely wiped the saliva running down his chin with the back of his hand. Lash inwardly grimaced. Speed could be such a hog, it was a bit embarrassing at times. Given his vast bulk, it was ironic that his power was superspeed.

They approached a gaggle of giggling girls. Lash smirked as he stretched out his arm and tapped the shoulder of an attractive blonde in the group. She pursed her full lips together and scowled when she turned around.

"Hey, Snowflake. If you ever get sick of running after Peace and want yourself a real man, I'm here for you, baby," Lash leered. Speed sniggered between mouthfuls of cake. Bianca snorted derisively, her pretty nose wrinkling as if she had caught a particularly bad smell.

"Drop dead, Lash, you dick," she said coldly. "And don't call me Snowflake. In fact, don't speak to me at all. Unless you want your balls frozen off." She turned on her heel and walked away. Lash watched her sashay up the school steps and grinned approvingly at her short skirt.

He gave a low whistle. "Man, that is one fine piece of…"

Lash stopped when a short boy with thick glasses and dressed in orange bumped into Speed, causing his cupcake to slip through his chocolate-smeared fingers and plop unceremoniously onto the concrete.

"You little shit!"

"Sorry," said Ethan. He looked Speed in the eye and smiled. The little sidekick didn't seem to be scared at all.

"You'll regret that," Speed spluttered, red-faced.

"Hey, I said sorry," said Ethan impatiently. "Now, I'm in a bit of a hurry, so if you don't mind…"

Lash extended his arm and grabbed hold of Ethan's collar as he started to walk away, lifting the smaller boy three feet from the ground. Ethan was writhing and kicking under his grip, dangling wretchedly in the air like a marionette.

"Oh, but we do mind, _sidekick_," said Lash, emitting the word 'sidekick' with a contemptuous hiss. "You need to learn to show your superiors some respect."

Ethan shook with frenzied wheezing as Lash lifted him higher.

"Huh-huh-huh… P-huh-ut m-huh-me d-huh-own!" Ethan rasped, his face slick with sweat.

Lash and Speed exchanged smug glances.

"Uh-oh! The ickle sidekick is scared of heights," Speed jeered. "You better put him down, Lash, and give him to me." He smiled at Ethan maliciously. "I'll make him feel better."

Lash released Ethan, who collapsed to the ground in a quivering, gasping heap. There was a flash of monochrome and orange and Speed and Ethan disappeared from view. Lash and Speed's minds worked in tandem when they attacked. They had learned to appreciate the fine art of torture over their years together; they were connoisseurs in suffering. They were able to identify and strike at weakness in such a way as to generate the most exquisite pain. Lash instinctively looked to the top of the school's highest building, the gym roof, knowing he would find Speed and his victim there.

From ground level, it was difficult to see exactly what was happening. But Lash knew from the blur of colour on the roof that Speed was spinning Ethan around repeatedly. He knew that Speed wanted to make him throw up, to degrade him. Break him. Lash laughed so hard he felt tears run down his cheeks. If only he could see the sidekick's face.

"What's so funny, Lash?"

At the sound of that self-righteous voice, Lash's laughter immediately halted. Will fucking Stronghold, thought Lash venomously, and Warren fucking Peace, standing together, arms crossed like a pair of fucking fags. Stronghold, in his usual preppy ensemble and Peace in his bad boy black leather. Pathetic. Lash felt the old anger simmer over inside him, but said nothing.

Will looked to the gym roof.

"What the… is that a _person_ Speed's got up there?" he demanded sharply.

Lash was taller than Will, but stretched his body further so that he towered over him.

"Keep out of it, Stronghold," said Lash, his voice laced with menace. He was standing too close to Will, practically touching him. Will looked him square in the eye, unblinking, unafraid. Warren was on standby. Of course Will didn't need any help, but if Lash so much as laid a finger on him, he would incinerate the elasticated freak.

A dreadful scream from above made all the students look to the sky. Ethan was plummeting from the roof. Lash felt his mouth turn to dust. No, he wouldn't… This couldn't be part of the plan. Sure, they were sadistic bastards, but Speed couldn't have wanted this…

No-one could move or breathe as they watched Ethan's sickening descent. No-one except Will, who leapt into the air, his mind blank. He soared upwards, slicing through the wind, catching Ethan only feet away from the ground.

"Ethan!"

Layla, Zach and Magenta ran over to their friend, who hung limply in Will's arms. Will was pale and trembling as he lowered Ethan to the ground.

"H-he's not breathing!"

Will stood over Ethan helplessly. Layla pushed him aside and checked Ethan's pulse, asking him loudly if he could hear her. No response. Curious students started to gather around.

"Back off!" Warren growled, his dark eyes blazing. "Or I swear I will fry you all!"

Layla knelt next to Ethan, and tilted his head back, checking his airway. Warren felt nauseous. How did she manage to stay so calm? He could feel Will shaking next to him and he grasped his arm tightly. Will placed his fingers over Warren's and squeezed them so hard Warren thought he could feel his bones crunch.

Layla pinched Ethan's nostrils shut and covered his mouth with her own. She robotically went through the CPR manoeuvres in her mind. Two slow breaths, two seconds each. Pause. Repeat. Two slow breaths, two seconds… _It's not working_, a small voice screamed in Layla's head. _Ethan's going to die! You're doing it wrong, it's not working!_ Layla fought against the rising panic. She tried to ignore the people around her and her own self-doubt. She placed her hand on Ethan's chest. Fifteen firm chest compressions. Layla counted and gave two breaths.

Layla wept when Ethan's chest moved spontaneously and he gave a feeble cough. She barely registered the gentle hand on her shoulder. Nurse Spex had pushed her way through the crowd and was now kneeling beside her, checking Ethan over.

"Well done, girlie," she beamed at Layla. "You did it."

There was a blinding burst of white light. Principal Powers quickly assessed the situation and instructed a bus driver to take Ethan to Maxville General Hospital. As soon as she was satisfied that Ethan was safe, she turned to the students, her grey eyes as hard as steel.

"Who is responsible for this?"

Speed appeared at her elbow, looking a model of sincerity.

"I saw it happen, Principal Powers – the sidek… Ethan was on the roof, he must've slipped somehow," he said helpfully.

"LIAR!"

Will launched himself at Speed. Will at full power was unstoppable. Warren struggled to hold Will back, realising he was only able to restrain him because he was so shaken. He felt Will's muscles tense then relax slightly under his hands. Warren desperately wanted to toast Speed himself, but could not allow Will to do something he might regret.

"It was him, Principal Powers!" Will yelled, his face contorted with fury. "Speed nearly killed Ethan!"

The assorted throng gasped at Will's words. Speed opened his mouth to protest, but Principal Powers silenced him with a raised hand.

"My office, now."

A collective hush fell over the students as Principal Powers led Speed inside the building. Zach, Magenta and Layla stared at Lash wide-eyed, as if he were a psychopath.

"Why did you have to tell her that, Stronghold, you fuck?" Lash spat. "Speed didn't mean it to go that far."

"He could've killed him!" shrieked Magenta.

"But he's going to be expelled, for sure."

"And whose fault is that?" said Will.

Lash glared at him.

"You'll pay for this, Stronghold."

"You think Will's scared of you?" Warren snarled. "What could you possibly do to him?"

Lash stormed off, his anger reaching an unbearable level. God, how he wanted to make them both suffer…

That evening, Lash sat in his room, brooding. He thought of the unsettling conversation he had with Speed after school. Speed was his best friend, there was no-one he trusted more, but… Speed had shown no remorse, he simply laughed as he recounted how Powers had said she didn't believe the story that got them out of jail early, that Royal Pain forced them to help her using mind control. Speed laughed as he explained how his father's influence had ensured that he escaped expulsion and only gotten himself a week's suspension. He found it all so hilarious. He didn't seem to care that someone had nearly died because of him.

Lash pushed away the treacherous thoughts about Speed and reflected on the end of the conversation. About the promise he made to his friend. The promise that he would destroy Stronghold. Yeah, the fucker had it coming to him. It was Stronghold's fault that they had wound up in prison. Stronghold's fault that Speed had got into trouble.

The darkening shadows lengthened as the night drew on and Lash continued to plot. A plan finally took shape. He smiled to himself in the darkness. He knew how he was going to crush Stronghold completely.

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A/N

Yes, I know, we're three chaps in now and still no mindswappery! Bear with me, though, as the scene setting is important… I promise the action will hot up in part 4.

Thanks for reading and for the reviews so far (all three of them! thanks for your comments west trekker, Rosemarykiss and smokeydog, as this is my first story I'm just so chuffed that I got some feedback! and Rosemarykiss, I get what you mean about the 1st chap being a little confusing, but its where the idea for the story sprung from so I thought it would be a good starting point... )

Please let me know what you think, good and bad!

_**AzulTigress**_

PS I'm no first aider, so please don't use those resuscitation techniques if you find yourself in an emergency situation!


	4. Outside In

_Chapter 4: Outside In_

Layla walked along the empty, dimly-lit corridors and rubbed ineffectually at her thudding temples. It had been a long day. She had just finished arguing with Larry, the editor of the school paper, about her report on MacZees. He kept using words like 'controversial', 'defamatory' and 'potential libel action'. Layla countered with 'censorship', 'civil liberties' and 'freedom of the press'. But, despite her best efforts, and despite pointing out how unlikely it was that anyone from the fast food company would ever read something written by a student reporter in the paper of a school that didn't officially exist, she was told the story couldn't run.

"I'm sorry, Layla, it's just too risky," Larry said, not unkindly. "But you are a good writer. Why don't you try something that's less likely to get us sued, like that inter-school Save the Citizen competition that's coming up? Or prom?"

All those hours of painstaking research wasted, she thought sullenly as she hurled her books into her locker and slammed the door. For someone who could turn into a giant rock monster, Larry was such an unbelievable wuss. So what if the story might upset a few people? Sometimes the truth hurts…

And Magenta and Zach were really annoying her at the moment. Layla usually found their jokey bickering cute, even amusing, but not today. She realised she was missing the buffer of Ethan. He was still in hospital, but in a stable condition and apparently would be fit for discharge in a couple of weeks.

And to top it all off she was missing Will, who seemed to be joined at the hip with Warren these days. So much for wanting to stay friends, she thought, although she knew that was unfair. Of course they were still friends, even if it wasn't quite the same. But was that Will's fault? Could a relationship move from best friends to lovers to best friends again that easily? Or at all?

Layla stood still. Her locker door squeaked as it swung back and forth on its hinges, but there was another noise. Footsteps. They were echoing faintly further down the corridor. She crept to the edge of the wall and peered around the corner. Lash was standing outside the mad science lab. He looked around and Layla held her breath. But he did not spot her and tried the door handle, which appeared to be locked.

What happened next surprised her. Lash stood at the door and slowly seemed to be shrinking, then melting. He was flattening himself. Layla's initial amazement that Lash had such control over his body soon disappeared when she saw his flattened shape edging towards the gap underneath the lab door, then slither into the classroom.

What was he up to?

She felt a heavy hand rest against her shoulder and almost screamed.

"Why so jumpy, hippie?"

"Oh, Warren, thank God it's you! What are you doing here this late?" She frowned. "Don't tell me you got detention again?"

"Spare me the lecture, Layla," said Warren, looking away from her. "Why are you sneaking around anyway?"

"It's Lash, he's broken into the mad science lab…"

"Not our problem," Warren shrugged. "Let's get out of here."

"Warren, you don't understand! He's up to no good…"

"No shit. He's Lash. And he's just broken into a classroom. Of course he's up to no good."

The longer Layla looked at him with her big brown eyes, the more guilty Warren felt. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling guilty about.

"Oh, hippie," he sighed. "You have really got to start keeping your nose out of other people's business."

* * *

Lash walked over to the black filing cabinet in a back corner of the laboratory. Fortunately for Lash, even though Medulla was a mad scientist obsessed with technology, he liked to keep one thing traditional. Lash placed a finger over the lock and concentrated, his face glistening with effort and pain. He forced his finger through the keyhole, commanding every fibre and tissue in the digit to twist and contort until he heard a faint click. He pulled a drawer and it slid open smoothly. 

Jackpot.

Lash softly laughed to himself as he rummaged through the files. This was too easy. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. He removed a sheaf of papers from a folder and slowly closed the drawer, taking care to lock it up again.

The classroom door flew open in flash of flame. Warren stood in the doorway, his dark brow furrowed, fire snaking down his arms. Layla stood by his side, her face pale and tense.

"God, Warren, you didn't have to blow up the door," she said under her breath.

Lash yelped as a well-aimed fireball struck him in the stomach. He batted at the flames eating his shirt as Warren sped towards him, snatching the papers away.

"What have we here?" Warren asked, scanning the documents in his hands. He gave a low laugh. "Exam papers? You were planning on cheating?" Warren couldn't believe that Lash was that stupid. "You know this means instant expulsion, Lash."

Layla looked over Warren's shoulder. "But that isn't Lash's exam paper… that's mine!" Warren and Layla's eyes locked.

"You-you were going to plant this on Will, weren't you?" Warren's voice shook slightly. Layla gasped. Hero schools across the country took a zero tolerance approach to cheating and any kind of fraudulent activity. A student who could engage in such behaviour was thought not to have the moral sense required to be a hero. It meant social death in the superhero community. Abject shame for the family of the cheater.

Lash simply smirked in reply.

Warren raised a fist. "You bastard…"

"Now, now, Peace," Lash interrupted. "You can't actually prove anything."

"What…"

"Think about it. I didn't blast the classroom door. _You _did. My prints aren't on the exam paper. _Yours _are." Lash held up his hand. "That's the beauty of having elasticated skin – I don't leave a mark... Unless I want to."

"Shit," Warren muttered. Layla covered her mouth with her hands.

"Everyone knows how you've been helping Stronghold with his science homework. But to think of the depths you'd sink to. Tsk, tsk."

What the hell, Lash thought. If I can't go for the main prize, I may as well get second best. And this will piss Stronghold off anyway. Who knows, maybe this could cause him even more damage…

"I think I'm more _disappointed _than angry, Warren. What will your mother say? Seems like you've turned out to be just like your father after all…"

Warren didn't care about flaming Lash, punching him would be enough. He charged at him, swinging his fist at his face. Lash elongated and curved his body from Warren's reach.

"Warren, don't! Don't make it any worse!" Layla shouted, knowing full well how futile it was. Warren wasn't listening to her.

Lash extended an arm and struck Warren across the jaw. He fell backward into Layla, causing them both to stumble over a stool. Warren threw a jet of flame at Lash as he ran past. The flames caught Lash's sleeve and he stopped to swipe them. Lash ducked to avoid another firey projectile, which crashed into a desk, sending out a shower of glass and wood. Warren raced after him, every fireball he tossed deftly evaded by Lash. The air rang with explosions and shattering glass.

"Fight me properly, you fucking coward!"

At this, Lash began throwing things at Warren. Stools, bottles, boxes of mad science equipment… They circled one another, Warren throwing flame, Lash throwing anything he could lay his hands on. Layla didn't know what to do. Someone was going to get hurt, but there was no vegetation in the mad science lab. She felt powerless.

Lash ducked inside the hatch of a large, sliver machine partially covered by a dust sheet at the back of the lab, narrowly avoiding a fireball. The flame blasted against the chamber-like contraption in a flurry of sparks. Warren chased Lash into the machine, ignoring its crackling and whirring, and the flame that was twisting along the exposed outer wires. He tripped on Lash's outstretched leg as he entered. Lash lengthened his arms and grabbed Warren as he was momentarily off balance, slamming him repeatedly against the side of the machine. Layla ran inside.

"Get off him!" she yelled, kicking Lash hard on the back of his knees. He screamed in pain and slackened his grip on Warren, allowing him to struggle free.

Warren didn't quite know what happened next. Hot, metallic blood was filling his mouth from a cut on the inside of his cheek. He had never felt so angry, never wanted to hurt anyone more…

His whole body erupted into one flaming mass. Both Lash and Layla shrunk away from he intense heat. Lash staggered back, his elbow catching a switch. The hatch door clanged shut.

"Oh my God," said Layla, frantically pressing the switch Lash triggered. "We're trapped!"

The whirring grew louder and became a thunderous deafening roar, filling their ears. Everything turned red, then faded into black.

The emergency lighting sputtered overhead as Mr Medulla walked into his laboratory. His eyes rested on the rubble strewn across the room, moving onto the bodies of the three unconscious students and then the shattered remnants of the silver chamber.

"Oh dear."

* * *

Vivid purple dots danced in front of Warren's eyes as his vision blinked into focus. He was lying on the floor, but he could feel the room spinning around him, even when he closed his eyes again. He resisted an overwhelming urge to vomit. 

Warren got his breathing back under control and sat up, clutching onto a table leg for support. He opened his eyes. Something felt wrong. Very wrong. He looked down and…

…screamed? His voice… no… no…

"What the fuck?"

Warren inspected his hands, but they were not his. They were small and white and covered in oversized floral rings. _Layla's hands!_ He looked wildly at the unconscious bodies next to him. Lash and… himself?

At Warren's scream, the prone figure of Lash began to stir. As Lash's eyes flickered open, he gaped at Warren for a minute before he too cried out in shock.

"My body? You… what are you...?"

"Layla? You're in Lash?"

"Oh my God, Warren? You're inside me?"

On another occasion, that sentence would have prompted a snigger from Warren at the very least, if not some crude comment, but instead it led him to the obvious conclusion. "So Lash is in my…"

"Oh no…" said Layla, a look of horror spreading across Lash's face.

Warren's body shifted, eyes groggily opening. From within Warren's body, Lash stared at himself.

"What the…"

A cough from behind them made them all turn around with a start.

"I don't think you are quite aware of how much trouble you are in," said Mr Medulla. A blue vein pulsated on his expansive cranium. "Notwithstanding the fact that Messrs Peace and Langford are already on their final final warning, and are therefore likely to be expelled, have any of you any idea how long it has taken me to develop the mindswapper?" He waved his hand at the broken pieces of machinery littering the classroom. "This was to make me my fortune – it was to revolutionise the whole interstellar travel industry. Consciousnesses were to be exchanged between different life forms, allowing people to experience new worlds. The years of toil I have spent creating the mindswapper in this lab…"

"Hold on…" Layla started, then stopped for a moment. It sounded so wrong, her words coming out of Lash's mouth, being spoken with Lash's sneering voice. "Are you saying you've been using school resources for your own purposes?"

Mr Medulla's eye twitched. "Not that I have to explain myself to a group of delinquent school kids that have broken into my classroom, but the Principal encourages the faculty's personal projects. After all, our individual successes equate more kudos for the school…"

"So Principal Powers is fully aware that you've been using school money to fund your personal project for the past few years?"

Mr Medulla hesitated, then gave a small, grim smile. "Well, it seems that we have reached something of a stalemate."

He noticed the blank expression Lash was wearing on Warren's face and sighed. "Clearly not a chess player."

God, thought Warren as he took in the slack jaw and glazed eyes, do I always look that stupid?

"But I can't stay in Peace's body!" shrieked Lash. Layla stared at him. She had never heard Warren shriek like that before.

"I can assure you I'm not exactly thrilled with the arrangement either," she said, looking at Lash's hands.

Mr Medulla walked over to what remained of the silver chamber. "The ionic crystals need replacing, and they're not the easiest items to source. And the circuitry is damaged beyond repair – most of it will have to be rebuilt from scratch." He shook his head. "It's going to take at least a couple of weeks… "

"A couple of weeks?" Warren repeated quietly.

The mad scientist looked at the broken machine in silence for a few moments. "You must all promise to say nothing of this matter," he warned. "Principal Powers must not suspect any foul play." No one spoke. "Well, go on then. Promise you won't speak of this to anyone else."

As Lash, Layla and Warren dully made the promise, Mr Medulla strode to a cabinet at the back of the lab, delved inside and pulled out a small glass bottle. He placed a bright, green pill into each of their palms, instructing them to swallow it immediately to counteract the after effects of the mindswap. Dazed, the three of them did as they were told. They soon regretted this.

A sly smile played on Medulla's lips. "When a person makes a promise or a vow, the prefrontal cortex in their brain becomes hypersensitive. The drug you have all just taken, Pledgerin, maintains that sensitivity and is activated by the electric charge caused when that promise is broken. Pledgerin suppresses the efficacy of the upper brain, causing the cognitive functions to shut down and inducing a permanent cataleptic state."

The students were silent as Mr Medulla's words sunk in.

Lash scratched his, that is Warren's, head. "Uhhh… you lost me at full-frontal codex…"

"Lash, you complete moron," Warren hissed. "He just told us that we talk about this to anyone and our brains turn to mush!"

"Precisely, Miss Willi- I mean, Mr Peace. Now, I must ask you all to leave my classroom. I will inform you when the mindswapper is operational again."

Mr Medulla watched them unsteadily make their way out of the lab. That was too close. The mindswapper was a ground-breaking invention, but wholly unethical. If Principal Powers had any inkling of the experiments he was conducting at the school, it would probably be more than his job on the line…

He tossed the empty pill bottle into a trash can. He couldn't believe he managed to dupe those stupid children with that ridiculous load of sci-babble he'd just spurted out. Pledgerin indeed! Medulla wiped his brow with a trembling hand. He had a lot of work to do.

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A/N

Does Lash have a surname? I'm not sure, so have invented one for him anyway!

The whole concept of mindswap as a mode of interstellar travel is borrowed (OK, blatantly ripped off) from _MindSwap_ by Robert Sheckley. It's been some time since I read it, but I do remember it being quite funny (worth a read if you can find it - I think its out of print now)

And thanks to all for your reviews! Sorry I was so slow in replying, but I've been pretty busy lately and am disorganised by nature, but I really do appreciate it! I'm about to go away to Ireland for a couple of weeks, so it may be some time before I manage to update this… I'll try my best, though.

Oh, and as you may have already guessed from my spelling, I'm a Brit, but I want to make this fic sound as authentically American as possible. I do exist on a diet of US films and TV shows, so I hope I manage to pull it off most of the time. Please let me know if I haven't!

Cheers,

**_AzulTigress_**


	5. Masquerading

_Chapter 5: Masquerading_

The shrill buzz of Layla's alarm clock pierced Warren like a jagged knife. He fumbled blearily for the snooze button, surprised that sleep had managed to sneak up on him in the end. Warren had lain in Layla's bed all night, fully clothed, his mind racing. He couldn't bring himself to undress, it felt all kinds of wrong. Like he was violating her somehow. He groaned loudly and ran a hand over his face. Layla's face. But he couldn't lie there all day, as much as he wanted to. He was going to have to bite the bullet sooner or later.

Warren heaved himself off of the bed. Layla's room was considerably tidier than his and it didn't surprise him that there was more greenery. Exotic orchids lined the window ledge, a colourful flowering cactus sat on the bedside table and there were huge terracotta pots along the walls containing plants with lush, dark leaves. It was more of a greenhouse than a bedroom.

A riot of colour assaulted Warren's eyes as he pulled open Layla's wardrobe. Yep, the hippie loved her greens and her flowery patterns, he mused. Black was so much easier, it required no effort. Plus, no-one noticed you in black. It was instant camouflage. Warren removed a crocheted lime top emblazoned with fuchsia petals from a hanger. Unlike this conspicuous little number. He shuddered, hurriedly dropping it to the floor and eventually settled on a pair of dark jeans and an olive-green linen blouse. Well, they weren't black, but they would have to do. And at least they didn't have flowers on them.

Placing the clothes on the bed, Warren edged closer to the inevitable. There was no escaping it. He was going to have to put on women's lingerie. He opened the dreaded underwear drawer. Strapless bras, push-up bras, halterneck bras, lacy panties, French knickers, thongs… Layla sure had a lot of underwear. The choice was bewildering. Warren briefly wondered how much of it she'd worn for Will then told himself that he didn't care.

He pulled out the plainest white cotton bra he could find, eyeing it suspiciously. Warren had plenty of experience _removing _bras, specifically Bianca's, but putting them on, he soon discovered, was an altogether trickier affair. And it also meant the small matter of looking at Layla's breasts. Well, he couldn't exactly help it, could he? At least Lash had wound up in a body of the same sex.

But it was _his_ body. Warren felt his palms go cold at the thought. He considered warning Lash the previous night not to mess up any part of his life, especially not to upset his mom in any way, but realised he would just be handing his weaknesses to him on a plate. He would deal with Lash later if anything happened.

An assortment of photographs tacked onto the mirror on Layla's dressing table caught Warren's eye as he made to leave the room. They were a documentary of Will and Layla's relationship through the ages. Layla and Will as small children, holding hands and eating ice-cream on a beach. Layla proudly clutching a trophy and standing next to a sunflower some seven feet high, Will appearing a tad deflated, holding a withered little weed in a pot. Will perched on a shiny blue bicycle, Layla sitting on an identical one in green. Will blowing out candles on a birthday cake, Layla standing next to him laughing, her hands caught in mid-clap…

The most recent photo was taken at Homecoming last year, their little gang all together after their triumph over Royal Pain and her cronies. Will and Layla were at the centre of the shot, his arm around her shoulders, hers wrapped around his waist, both smiling brightly for the camera. Even Magenta was grinning. They all were, except for himself, Warren noted. He was standing a little apart from the group, his face solemn, his black eyes cynical. Warren hated the falseness of smiling for posed photographs, the forced artificiality of it all. But he had to admit it made him look like a miserable bastard.

As he looked at the pictures, Warren felt oddly resentful that Layla and Will shared so much history. That they knew each other inside out. His eyes lingered on Will's arm draped casually around Layla in the Homecoming photo. They looked so at ease with each other. Warren wondered how it must feel to be that close to someone. He thought he was getting there with Bianca, but she'd thrown that back in his face. She was just like the rest of them. Too ashamed to openly admit to her father that she was seeing him, but probably enjoyed the danger of secretly dating one of Sky High's resident bad boys. She didn't actually care about him at all.

Warren just didn't get it. Will and Layla had something special. What happened?

* * *

Layla stumbled around Lash's room, her eyes streaming and burning. It felt like she had grit stuck to her eyeballs. 

Great, she thought. Lash could've warned me he wears contacts!

With some difficulty she removed the dried up contact lenses from her eyes, realising with mounting alarm that she was now rendered virtually blind. Some twenty minutes later, Layla located an unattractive pair of thickly-rimmed glasses on Lash's bedside table. Well, at least she could see now, the hazy bedroom fixing sharply into focus as she put the glasses on. Layla was not surprised to find a horde of bikini-clad bimbettes thrusting their silicon-boosted chests out and smiling toothily at her from Lash's walls. It was pretty pathetic really.

Could she stand two weeks of this? Two weeks of living with a strange family, who she knew nothing about, of not being able to speak to her own family or hang out with her friends and of being trapped in the body of a boy she intensely disliked? Layla didn't think it could be any worse until she remembered that Warren was trapped in _her _body. Warren would be living her life. Oh God, he was going to see her naked, she thought, a blush creeping from the base of Lash's neck to his face.

Layla needed some music to soothe her nerves, although she knew it was too much to expect that Lash would have any Enya. A quick glance at Lash's CDs confirmed she was correct. It was typical nu-metal fare - Korn, Limp Bizkit, Slipknot and… _Jessica Simpson_? Layla found the offending album wedged behind a much cooler-sounding German thrash metal band. She snorted with laughter as she made her way to the bathroom.

Layla supposed that she better have a shower. She regarded Lash's reflection in the mirror. Even with the hideous spectacles on, he didn't look too bad. He'd actually be quite cute if he wasn't such an insufferable jerk. With another blush she reluctantly acknowledged that Lash looked pretty good without his clothes on, too. Lash's lanky frame belied some good muscle definition, probably honed over years of working on his stretching abilities.

After a scalding hot shower and quickly dressing, Layla felt a bit more normal. Or as normal as was possible given the circumstances. She padded along the plush burgundy carpet of the hallway. The Langford house was actually very impressive. A series of old oil paintings hung on the walls and it was furnished with expensive-looking Regency pieces. It was elegantly decorated, but it felt more like a fancy hotel than a home. Somewhat soulless.

She finally came across some personal pictures amongst the fusty antiques. A portrait of the Langford family in sepia. Lash looked about eight years old, his hair neatly coiffured, very stiff and formal in a shirt and tie. Layla presumed the older, chunkier boy was Lash's brother. Mr and Mrs Langford flanked their two sons. Mr Langford was a thickset man with a large moustache, Mrs Langford tall and willowy. Next to the photograph was a small painting of Mrs Langford in her younger days, a string of pearls on her swan-like neck and a ghost of a smile on her thin lips.

Layla continued down the hallway and entered the dining room.

"Good morning, Laurence," a bald, moustachioed man called out cheerily over the financial section of the _Maxville Mercury_. Mr Langford. He was a bit heavier around the jowls than in the family photograph. It took a few seconds for Layla to process what he called her. _Laurence?_ Well, it made sense. Who would be cruel enough to name their child Lash? Although it would explain his… issues.

"Hi, Dad!" Layla replied with a wide grin. Mr Langford scrutinized her carefully. Clearly he was unaccustomed to such an enthusiastic greeting from his son.

"Err… would you like me to get you a drink?"

Mr Langford's eyes bulged. Uh-oh. Really not keeping in character, here, Layla thought.

"No? OK." Layla poured herself a glass of juice.

Mr Langford turned a page of his newspaper. "Don't forget Stewart and Grandpa are coming over for dinner tonight, son. So don't be late."

A pained expression fleetingly crossed his face. "You know your Grandpa can't abide tardiness." The paper quivered a little in Mr Langford's hands.

* * *

An elderly ginger tomcat with threadbare fur dozed at the bottom of the stairs. It shot up at the sound of the floorboards creaking as Warren descended and regarded him with rheumy eyes. Warren looked around the living room. To his dismay there seemed to be felines everywhere. Warren was not a cat person. He stiffened as the ginger tom sidled up to him, sniffing him cautiously. Without warning, the cat sunk its pin-like teeth into his leg. He cried out and shook it off. The cat hissed, its tail twitching crazily. 

"Horace, what's gotten into you?"

Mr Williams gently shooed away the cat. Warren felt him ruffle his hair in a gesture of paternal affection. He was a tall, middle-aged man and silver strands glinted in his own thinning, red hair. Warren hadn't met him before, but Layla had said that he was the head veterinary surgeon at Maxville Animal Shelter. Judging by the menagerie it appeared that Mr Williams liked to bring his work home. As he took Warren into the kitchen, he gave him an update on Layla's mother, otherwise known as the omnilinguist, Lexis. Apparently Mrs Williams' latest mission involved training dolphins in espionage techniques off the coast of Mexico.

Warren positioned himself at the table. He felt an unmistakable twinge of envy as he watched Mr Williams potter around the kitchen. This was how a normal hero family should be. Possessing both the ability to save the world and sanity.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?"

"Some black coffee would be good."

Mr Williams dropped a spoon onto the kitchen tiles with a loud clatter. He looked at his daughter as if she had just announced that she wanted to club a few baby seals to death before breakfast.

"Some _what_? Oh, I get it, you're kidding me!" he laughed. "Layla, for a second there I thought you were being serious! As if we'd keep a poison like caffeine under this roof! I'll just get you your usual peppermint tea, shall I? And I've just made some miso broth with barley…"

Layla's father handed Warren a bowl of what appeared to be brown pond water. With seeds floating in it.

OK, so maybe not so normal after all, Warren thought.

"Ummm… Thanks."

Something small and sticky attached itself to Warren's leg. Expecting to find another cat attacking him, Warren was relieved to see that it was a toddler with big brown eyes, a mop of red hair and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Layla's kid sister. If it wasn't for the curls, she'd be an identical miniature version of her.

Warren had no idea how to speak to a small child. He hoped if he just ignored her she would go away, but no such luck. The toddler pulled insistently at Warren's jeans.

"La-la, read me a story."

"Uhhh…"

"Go on, honey, you have time to read to Bonnie before you go to school," smiled Mr Williams.

"OK," said Warren resignedly. "Which one?"

Mr Williams laughed. "I think you can guess, but I'll give you a clue. It's the one where the Teletubbies make tubby toast." Bonnie bounced around excitedly.

"Tubby toast!"

After reading the well-thumbed book five times successively, Warren learned that the Teletubbies were a quartet of multicoloured aliens who seemed to be nursing an unhealthy addiction to tubby toast. Whatever the hell that was.

"_Time for tubby bye-bye…" _Warren was slowly losing the will to live_. "…The sun is setting in the sky, the Teletubbies say goodbye…"_

"Uhhh… Bonnie, I'm going to have to go to school now."

Warren recognised the mournful, guilt-inducing look Bonnie gave him. It was one he was well-used to receiving from her big sister, and no less effective. But not enough to make him want to endure another telling of that godawful story. He was almost thankful to be interrupted by Horace, the demon cat, jumping on the breakfast table, spitting madly. Bonnie swept the cat into her arms and it made a strangled mewling sound.

"Silly Horace! 'Course this is La-la!" giggled Bonnie, scratching the scruffy tomcat behind the ears. "Daddy, Horace says that La-la is a boy!"

Shit, Warren thought, the fleabag cat knows and the damn kid can talk to animals! Fortunately Mr Williams wasn't paying his youngest daughter any attention as he rushed about the house getting ready to leave for work.

There was a cursory knock at the back door and Will walked in, smiling that lop-sided smile of his. Bonnie squealed, her face lighting up at the sight of him. Yeah, just like Layla, Warren thought wryly. She flung her arms around Will's legs and he lifted her as if she was weightless, throwing her in the air and catching her as Bonnie giggled.

"Higher, Will, higher!"

"I think that's high enough for this morning, Bon, don't want you losing your breakfast on me!"

Warren felt himself go rigid as Will gently kissed the top of his head.

"Hey, Layla, thought I'd catch the bus with you this morning rather than fly to school."

"Ummm… OK."

Neither of them spoke as they walked to the bus stop. Warren was comfortable with silence and was even less inclined than usual to chat that morning. Will, on the other hand, was one of those people who itched when confronted with silence and was humming tunelessly just to fill it, stopping now and again to say hello to various neighbours they encountered along the way. Warren predicted that Will would cave in another minute and a half and started counting.

"You're really quiet today, Layla. Are you mad with me?"

One minute forty, thought Warren. So close.

"I don't think so."

Will sighed. "It's because I've been spending so much time with Warren, isn't it?"

Warren wasn't too sure how he should respond to that, so said nothing.

"I'm sorry, but he's really been helping me. He has this way of explaining things so that it all makes sense. Even to a muscle-head like yours truly." He laughed. "I don't think I'd cope with Mad Science without him."

Will gave Layla's arm an affectionate squeeze and Warren felt his throat tighten.

"But I haven't forgotten about you. Why don't we rent out a scary movie tonight like we used to? Just you and me, no one else, no distractions? My parents are at some superhero convention in Europe this weekend, so I've got the place to myself."

Will's breath was feather-soft on Warren's cheek. He was acutely aware of Will's fingers pressing through the thin fabric of his blouse. He could barely think, let alone string together a coherent sentence.

"Ummm… OK?"

Will looked serious. "Listen, Layla, I meant what I said before about not wanting to lose you. You'll always be really important to me."

The images on Layla's dressing table flooded Warren's mind. Of course the hippie was important to Stronghold, they'd been friends since they were in diapers. But that didn't stop that distinctive twinge from returning. He may as well face it.

Warren was jealous of Layla Williams.

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A/N – Thank you for your lovely reviews! I know I should be writing for the sheer love of it, which I do, but reviews make me smile!

Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Lash. He returns in the next part. And he's going to be quite naughty…

Cheerio for now, chaps!

_**AzulTigress**_


	6. Sub Zero

_Chapter 6: Sub Zero_

Who did Peace think he was, the freaking karate kid or something? Lash thought, appraising the black kung fu outfit with ruby-coloured collar and toggles that was hanging on the back of Warren's bedroom door. A sheet of thick, creamy paper was pinned to the suit with a message in graceful Chinese characters followed by the English words: _All my love, Lao Lao_. And what was with the stack of paperbacks in the corner of Peace's room? Couldn't he afford a bookcase? Probably not, Lash reflected, if the rest of the apartment was anything to go by.

Ugh. Lash couldn't think of anything more sickening than being stuck in Peace's body. Except for being stuck in Stronghold's, maybe. Lash paused as he pulled on some clothes. Stronghold… There was a thought. He grinned to himself. Maybe he could have some fun with this after all.

Lash wandered into the kitchen and found Mrs Peace sitting at the table and staring vacantly at the wall, a cold cup of coffee in her hands. She had an oriental look about her. Her finely-boned face was probably quite pretty once, but now her cheeks were sunken, her eyes dull, and her unwashed hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She didn't even seem to notice that her son had entered the room.

Lash glanced around the kitchen. The Langford's maid would make him toast and pancakes in the mornings and it would be ready and waiting for him when he emerged from his room. By the look of her, he highly doubted Mrs Peace would be capable of telling him what day of the week it was, much less prepare breakfast. With a groan, he decided he'd have to do it himself if he wanted to eat anything that morning.

He located a loaf of bread and pulled out a slice, quickly shoving it back into the bag with a disgusted cry. It was covered in furry, green mould. Mrs Peace didn't even look up. What the hell was wrong with this woman?

* * *

That morning went as badly as Lash, Layla and Warren expected. Warren found Hero Support brain-crushingly tedious. They were currently covering 'Tips And Techniques To Avoid Falling Under The Hypnotic Influence Of A Supervillain'. Mr Boy assured them that this was exceedingly important as villains often exploited the close relationship between hero and sidekick to their dastardly advantage. Apparently, next week they would be looking into 'How To Spot Signs Of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder In Your Hero And What To Do About It'. Warren didn't know how Layla put up with it. With her abilities, why on earth was she settling for this unchallenging mediocrity? 

Layla hated how no-one was talking to her. It seemed that Speed was Lash's only real friend and he was still suspended. She spent her free periods in the library, Mrs Buckley the librarian watching her warily, as if she was going to stuff some books under her shirt and walk out or something. A gregarious person, it was hard for her when the hero support students scuttled out of her way and people didn't return her smiles. Plus, she found that sometimes she really needed to concentrate to keep Lash's body under control as his limbs had a tendency to stretch on their own accord. She wasn't used to putting that much thought into simply walking down the corridor.

Lash was getting sick of Will Stronghold following him around like an irritating shadow, jabbering away incessantly. He was so up himself, Lash struggled being barely civil to him. Luckily, Peace was so socially inept that Stronghold didn't seem to notice there was anything different about him. However, being Warren Peace did have some benefits, Lash thought when he noticed Bianca Frost smiling at him uncertainly as she walked past his locker at lunchtime. He smiled back at her and she dropped her books to the floor.

"Hey guys, you should really check this out," Zach called out to Lash and Will, pointing to the noticeboard, where a crowd of students were gathering. The sign that had attracted everyone's attention was under the poster asking students to bring their parents to Career Day next week:

_Save The Citizen World Championship_

_Tokyo 2007_

It detailed a Save the Citizen competition open to all hero schools worldwide. The US qualifiers were in a couple of months and the try outs to be on the Sky High team were in three weeks.

Will grabbed Lash by the arm and failed to notice his look of distaste at his touch. "Wow! This is so cool! We so need to do this, Warren!"

Coach Boomer's voice rang in their ears. "Glad you think so, boys."

The coach ushered Lash and Will away from the crowd. "Just between you and me, you two are Sky High's best hopes for this competition. Now, there was a time when Lash and Speed would have been my team of choice, but that was before you both paired up."

Boomer is such a dick, Lash thought. Me and Speed are twice as good as Peace and Stronghold!

Coach Boomer removed a grey swipe card from his pocket and handed it to Will. "I really shouldn't be doing this, but I'm trusting you two, so you better not let me down. This is the key to the new Holo-Room Mr Medulla's installed in the sub-basement of the gym. Programs 520 to 530 are simulations of international level STC, it's a little different to what you're used to in the gym, so I suggest you get some practice in before the try outs."

Unbeknown to Will and Lash, Warren and Layla were listening to the conversation with interest. They caught each others' eye and frowned. Neither of them were overly keen on the idea of Will spending prolonged periods alone with Lash in a hidden room.

With a deep sigh, Layla started to walk off to the cafeteria for a lonely lunch. For the third time that day, she tripped over her own feet. But this time she fell into Mr Spectra, the art teacher. Unfortunately, Mr Spectra was carrying pots of paint on a tray, most of which ended up on Layla's face and shirt.

"Idiot boy!" Mr Spectra cried. "Look what you've done!"

"S-sorry."

Layla felt wretched. Students were openly pointing at her and laughing. She told herself it was Lash they were laughing at, not her, but it didn't make her feel any better. She lost her footing again to a fresh round of laughter as she made her way to the bathroom, nearly forgetting that it was the boys' bathroom she needed. Lash watched her with narrowed eyes. She was making a fool of him.

"Oh, that's so funny," Magenta chuckled. "What type do you think he'll be?"

Zach looked confused. "Type?"

"Yeah, villain type. I mean, Lash hasn't got the brains to be your Machiavellian Mastermind, or your Evil Genius. But he's not quite stupid enough to be a Mindless Minion. More of a Hapless Henchman. Gets off on being bad but has no originality or thought. Needs a Mastermind or Genius to tell him what to do."

Stronghold, Boomer, the people laughing at him and now this. Lash was mad, but he was surprised when flame sprouted from his fingers. "Do you ever shut that goddamn trap of yours?" he growled at Magenta before stalking off.

Magenta shook her head. "Jeez, what's with him?"

"Try to be a bit sensitive, Maj," said Will warningly. "Remember, Warren's dad's a villain?"

"So we're never allowed to say the v-word in front of Warren?" Magenta asked testily. "I know he's had it tough, Will, but he is forever playing the victim card as if that excuses his pissy behaviour, and you always stick up for him!"

Warren felt incredibly uncomfortable. Was he really that bad? And did Will always defend him?

Magenta continued. "I mean, look how he's treated Bianca. She really cares about him and he won't even speak to her anymore."

"Well, maybe she deserved it!" Warren said before he could stop himself. "She wasn't the person he thought she was."

"Warren told you about him and Bianca?" Will asked. He had a funny look on his face.

Warren shrugged. "A little."

For the rest of the school day, Will was unusually sulky.

* * *

That evening, Lash went to the Paper Lantern and asked Mrs Chen for the next couple of weeks off on Warren's request. Not because he was scared of Peace or anything. He just wanted to get out of that apartment. Mrs Peace was acting like some sort of zombie; it was totally freaking him out. She barely spoke and looked constantly on the verge of crying. 

Lash leaned against a tree outside the restaurant and lit up a cigarette.

"I hoped I'd find you here."

He looked up and saw Bianca fiddling with her long hair.

"And so you have." Not the smoothest reply, Lash thought, but that didn't seem to bother Bianca, who was just grateful that 'Warren' wasn't shouting at her and storming off.

She edged closer to Lash. Her spicy smelling perfume tickled his nose.

"I've really missed you," Bianca said, tracing Lash's jaw line with her forefinger. She was so cold. A small shiver ran through Lash's body. She raised her head towards his and kissed him.

Kissing Bianca was like nothing Lash had ever felt before. It was like taking a mouthful of ice. Lash could feel the coldness slide down his throat, sending a pleasing chill tingling down his spine.

"I want to show you just how sorry I am." Bianca's voice was a silken purr in his ear, her hand slithering down his chest and lingering on his crotch. Lash gasped.

_Oh. My. God._

Once his temporary shock at Bianca's brazenness had disappeared, Lash responded in like. The cigarette dropped from his fingers, forgotten, and he pulled Bianca towards him, his hands roaming over her tight sweater and squeezing her breasts. It was a fantasy made real, he was openly groping one of the most lusted after girls in Sky High and she wasn't slapping him or screaming at him. She was actually encouraging him, and, oh God, moaning with pleasure.

Suddenly, something exploded against Lash's head. He howled out in pain as blood ran down his face from a gash on his forehead. He stepped back to avoid a second swipe from the large tree branch, then turned and saw Warren, chalk-white with rage.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same question!" shrieked Bianca. She was so incensed that she failed to notice that Layla Williams appeared to be swearing. "He's my boyfriend, what do you think we're doing?"

"But we- you broke up!" Warren yelled at Lash.

"Oh, I get it," sneered Bianca, moving between Lash and Warren. "You're jealous. You can't handle the fact that Will Stronghold dumped you and so you thought you'd move onto Warren." She lifted up a clenched fist that was glittering with ice. "Well, back off, sidekick. He's mine."

Lash wiped the blood on his face with the back of his right hand and wound his left arm around Bianca. He smirked at Warren.

"Come on, baby, forget about the hippie. I'm gonna give you the best night of your life." He kissed Bianca again. If he wasn't so turned on he would have started laughing at the knowledge that it was driving Warren nuts.

Warren couldn't watch any more. Lash was a fucking warped bastard. Warren ran off, but he couldn't shake the sight from his mind. Lash was using him to get to Bianca, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Who knew what other unpleasant plans Lash had in store for him? And what about his mom? She was so fragile at the moment, it was as if the slightest knock would shatter her. And he wasn't even there to make sure she was OK…

Warren was almost through the Williams' door when he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Layla, I thought you were getting us some food from the Paper Lantern?"

Great. Stronghold, Warren thought. The last person I want to see.

"Hey, what's happened?"

Warren sniffed. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"You don't look it… hey, come on…" Will enveloped Warren into his arms. The soft, body-warmed cotton of Will's shirt against Warren's face was strangely comforting. Then he couldn't help it, the tears engulfed him. There was too much to keep in, too many worries and fears he'd been burying and trying to forget. He cried noisily on Will's chest. Will didn't say anything, he just held him tightly. Warren could feel the sobs ease up as Will's hands smoothed his hair. He rested his face on the top of Warren's head.

"I hate seeing you like this," Will said after a while, his voice muffled. "I know it's all my fault, but the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you…"

Will carefully wiped the wetness away from Warren's cheeks.

"No, it's not you…" said Warren. "I don't know why I got so upset. I never usually. Must be the damn oestrogen or something."

"Oh yeah? Says the girl who cries most days about the evils of deforestation!" Will laughed, catching hold of Warren's arm.

Warren was confused. How can it be possible that someone could calm you with a touch one minute then make you feel dizzy with another the next? Will was smiling at him. That amazing smile. Brilliant, but somehow managing to be a little goofy at the same time. Warren felt a powerful urge to kiss him. So he did.

Oh my God, Warren thought, I'm kissing Will Stronghold! And he's kissing… _Layla_. Shit. But he didn't care just then, he only wanted that moment, to feel Will's mouth open against his, the tangle of tongues, his hungry hands devouring every inch of Will's well-muscled back.

Will pulled away panting slightly, his face pink. Warren looked at his mouth. He could only think how he needed to feel that mouth again. Warren knew if he was in his own body, he would be flaming up right now, blazing and pulsing with desire. But he was in Layla's body, which felt like it was burning in a very different way, a thrilling warmth that went from the fingertips to deep within. As if sensing this urgent need, Will's hand flew to his lips. He seemed to be putting up a barrier between his mouth and Warren.

"Please, Layla, it's over. We can't do this."

A wave of guilt hit Warren. What had he just done?

* * *

They tumbled into Bianca's house, clawing at each others' clothes, not making it past the hallway. Lash shrugged Warren's leather jacket to the floor and Bianca tugged his t-shirt over his head, murmuring appreciatively at the sight of Warren's chest and nipping his neck lightly. Lash pulled off Bianca's sweater. Unbidden, Lash could feel heat emanate from Warren's body and they were soon surrounded by a thin mist of steam as he crushed his mouth against hers. God, he wanted her so much, he could barely contain himself. 

They both jumped at the sound of the front door banging shut. Mr Frost stood in the hallway, his lip curled in a snarl.

"D-daddy!" spluttered Bianca, clutching her sweater to her chest, her eyes large and fearful.

"Get dressed and go to your room, Bianca," he said quietly, his gaze not moving from Lash. "I want to have some words with our guest in private."

Lash could hear Bianca stumbling up the stairs behind him.

"Umm… sorry, Mr Frost, it's not what it looks like…" Lash knew it was stupid thing to say as he stood there topless. It was exactly what it looked like.

Mr Frost grabbed Lash's arm and held it in a vice-like grip.

"I know what you're up to," he said, the hostility in his voice almost tangible, the hold on Lash's arm tightening. "But I can tell you now that I will not allow the son of Battle to even look at my daughter."

The coldness that Lash experienced then was very different to how it was with Bianca. His whole body had turned numb within a matter of seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but his tongue felt like cotton-wool. A layer of ice crystals criss-crossed over his skin as a judder went through him.

"You're about to find out why they call me Sub Zero. Consider this a warning."

Lash knew he should be trying to fire up to cancel out the ice, but he couldn't. His last thought before he blacked out was that he had never felt so cold.

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April Atrocity, EvilFaerie, Hotchocolatte, Rosemarykiss, smokeydog, Tanith Lilitu and West Trekker, cheers for the reviews on the last chapter! And to everyone else, I know you're reading this (the stat counters see all!), so please tell me what you think. Good, bad, whatever. All feedback is very welcome!

Till next time,

_**AzulTigress**_


	7. Secrets & Lies

_Chapter 7: Secrets and Lies_

As awkward silences went, this was pretty damn awkward, Layla thought as the Langford family ate their beef stroganoff. The absence of speech seemed to amplify all other sounds; the scrape of cutlery against fine china, the steady ticking of a clock, even the chewing and swallowing of food, all struggled to fill the gaping void. Layla had given herself an extra helping of vegetables and hoped that no-one would notice that she wasn't actually consuming the strips of cow carcass on her plate.

Mr Langford had made several attempts at polite conversation with Lash's grandfather, a tall, imposing man wearing an eye patch, but finally gave up when it was clear his responses were not going to be any more articulate than monosyllabic grunts. Lash's brother, Stewart, seemed a nice enough guy before his grandfather's arrival, but was now wordlessly eating his meal. Mrs Langford was nowhere to be seen and her absence was not commented on. Were she and Mr Langford separated or divorced? Layla could only speculate.

"What I really want to know is how my favourite grandson is doing." Layla was a little startled at the sound of Lash's grandfather's deep, gravelly voice as it had been so long since anyone had spoken. It was clear that he was addressing her, which seemed rather harsh considering Stewart was also sitting at the table. But if anything, Stewart looked bored rather than hurt.

"I'm great, thanks," Layla beamed. The big grin that Lash's Grandpa gave her in return softened his severe face.

"Yeah, no felonies or court appearances recently, hey Laurence? You _are_ doing well." Stewart smiled insincerely. His father shot him a warning look.

"So the boy got in a little trouble last year. Some high jinks at school. It happens. But then you two wouldn't know anything about that. About what it's like to be a hero." The old man shook his head sadly. "My only daughter married a stockbroker and gave birth to an accountant. If it wasn't for Laurence I wouldn't be able to look the other fellas at the retirement home in the eye. Especially not old George Stronghold. Did you know the Stronghold kid has _two_ superpowers?"

Stewart flung his fork onto his plate, spattering sour-cream sauce onto the crisp, white tablecloth. "It's always the same old thing, isn't it Grandpa? And besides, Dad knows plenty about being a hero. Surely you're not so senile that you've forgotten he was an active member of the Delta Division until not so long ago?"

Mr Langford closed his eyes. "Stewart, please…"

"Hah! _Him_? A _hero_?" Grandpa snorted. "Don't make me laugh, boy. He was a sidekick, goddammit! And not even a half-decent one at that!"

Stewart stood up, almost knocking his chair over.

"That's where you're wrong. I know that I have always been a disappointment to you, being power-free and all, but you know what? I don't care. I've done pretty nicely with my life, thanks very much!"

"Stewart!" Mr Langford's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table.

"No, Dad, we shouldn't have to take this crap. He spoils Laurence rotten, putting these ideas into his head that he's better than everyone else, and look how he's turned out," said Stewart, throwing his napkin onto the tablecloth.

"Don't worry," he continued, his face red. "I'm leaving. But just so you know, it's not what you have but what you do with it that makes you a hero, Grandpa."

With those parting words, Stewart left the Langford house. As soon as Stewart stepped out of the dining room, Lash's grandfather continued to work on his stroganoff as if nothing had happened, pausing at irregular intervals to speak to Layla. Layla noticed that Mr Langford had stopped eating and was just pushing the food around his plate.

Ouch, thought Layla. Family quarrels were invariably awful when they involved your own family, but they were even more toe-curlingly bad when they concerned someone else's. When Lash's grandfather finally left, Layla thought Mr Langford would be relieved, but he still looked troubled. Possibly more so. She found him later in his study, sitting by a cackling log fire, a glass of brandy in his hand. He wiped his nose with a handkerchief at Layla's entrance and attempted a smile, which came out as a grimace.

"It's not easy trying to be a good father, Laurence," he said, staring at the flames. "There are schools that teach you how to be a hero, but not how to be a parent. I've only ever wanted the best for you and your brother."

Layla didn't know Mr Langford, but she could see he was a good guy and she felt so sorry for him. The cheery demeanour he had shown at breakfast that morning had completely evaporated. He seemed broken. If only there was something she could do to help him, make him feel better about himself… Inspiration struck her suddenly.

"Dad, I want to ask you something…" As Layla asked Mr Langford, she knew it was perfect. And she was right, it worked. Mr Langford's broad smile threatened to split his face in half. He probably didn't get much opportunity to smile with Lash as a son, Layla guessed.

"Of course I will, Laurence, if you want me to."

Layla smiled back at him. _Ah, it always feels so good to do good!_

* * *

"For God's sake, don't go back in there! Just grab the gun and get out! Grab the… Idiot! Of course he's not dead!" 

Will was watching the movie through the gaps in his fingers, shouting advice to the group of backpackers that had fallen into the clutches of a murderous psychopath. Warren wanted to tell him there was no point in watching a dumb horror film if he was going to spend the whole time criticising the protagonists for following the conventions of dumb horror films, like splitting up, retreating to the attic/basement, or returning to a seemingly dead body. But he didn't want to push his luck. After the kiss, Warren fully expected Will to cancel their little movie-watching session. But he didn't. If anything, he seemed to be worried about him. Well, technically, it was Layla who Will was worried about. From the careful way Will was speaking to him, Warren suspected that he thought Layla was losing it.

After some dialogue-heavy, psycho-free scenes, Warren noticed that Will had become quiet and that his breathing had slowed. Warren gave a low laugh and shook his head when he turned to look at him. Will was slumped on the sofa, fast asleep. His hair was even more messy than usual and he was snoring gently.

Everything seemed to come easy to Will Stronghold. Even sleep. Perfect little Will Stronghold with his perfect little cereal packet family… No. It wasn't working. Try as he might, Warren couldn't revive that initial feeling of hate he felt for Will to counteract his other feelings. He knew Will and his neuroses too well by now to be under the misapprehension that having two of the most revered superheroes for parents automatically led to a perfectly happy superhero junior.

Warren wanted to believe that being in Layla's body was making him feel like this about Will, but, the truth was he had felt this building up for some time now. It was just too confusing. Before he met Will and Layla, Warren didn't really have any friends and he'd managed to convince himself he was happier that way. In Will, Warren had a best friend for the first time in his life. Someone who saw him exactly for who he was, not what he was. He couldn't imagine Will being ashamed of him. Not like some people.

_R-r-r-i-i-i-n-n-n-g! R-r-r-i-i-i-n-n-n-g!_

Will leapt awake with a jolt at the sound of the telephone, knocking Warren off the sofa and out of his reverie.

"Oww! Watch it, Stronghold!" Warren grumbled, rubbing his right elbow, which had struck the corner of the coffee table as he had crashed to the floor.

Will looked at him apologetically and mouthed the word 'sorry' as he picked up the phone.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Mrs Peace…"

Warren felt his insides clench. Why was his mother calling Will at this time of the night? What the hell had happened? All colour had drained from Will's face.

"Oh God…" Will's voice was quiet. "Don't worry, I'll be there right away…"

Will replaced the receiver. He looked terrified.

"It's Warren," he said in that same quiet voice. "He's at the General Hospital. He's… he's been seriously hurt."

Warren didn't know who he should be more worried about. Himself or his mother.

* * *

Lash groaned. The pain and exhaustion that was racking his body seemed to be pinning him down. The light, woollen blanket around his shoulders felt unnaturally heavy. There was a tang of disinfectant in the air, muted footsteps and voices. He could hear gusts of wind blasting against the window. When he finally forced his eyes open, he could just make out a dark figure sitting by his side. 

"Mom?" he asked croakily.

A warm hand brushed the hair from his face and he caught a light, sea-breezy scent.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm here."

But that wasn't his mom's voice… Of course not… Idiot… It was Mrs Peace.

"You gave me a real scare, Warren. You were exposed to extreme freezing temperatures. The doctors said it's lucky you're a pyrokinetic or you'd be in the end stages of severe hypothermia now."

Lucky. Yeah, right. Lucky that I'm trapped inside the son of one of the most hated villains ever and almost got frozen to death because of it. Lash pulled a face as he tried to sit up, then sank back down into his pillow. Moving hurt too much.

Mrs Peace was quiet for a while, holding his hand. The strength of the wind rattling the window pane increased.

"Who did this to you?" she asked eventually, her voice low but steady. Lash said nothing, but her dark eyes seemed to be cutting into his mind.

"As if I didn't know. Who else with freeze powers would do this? It was Robert Frost, wasn't it? He and your dad go back a long way. But I cannot believe he's so bitter that he took his grudge out on you." Mrs Peace's jaw twitched.

"Nobody hurts my little boy."

She kissed him gently on the forehead and stood up.

"Nobody."

* * *

Warren struggled to keep up with Will as they ran down the labyrinthine corridors of the Special Wing of the Maxville General Hospital. The hippie really needed to work out more, he thought, clutching his side and huffing. 

Will bumped into an orderly, sending him flying into a trolley of, thankfully clean, bed pans. Will helped him up, apologising profusely.

"Wh-Will," Warren panted. "S-slow down. We're not going to get there any faster if we have to keep stopping because you're running into people and knocking them out."

Will had to concede Warren's point and adjusted his pace to a brisk trot. They soon reached the ward Lash was on and saw that Mrs Peace was at the nurses' station. Will introduced her to 'his friend Layla' and Warren shook his mom's hand. Warren had been dreading the state he was going to find his mother in, but he wasn't expecting this.

"Thank you so much for coming, Will," said Mrs Peace with a grateful smile. She looked different. She was evidently deeply anxious for her son's welfare as she informed them of his condition, but there was something in her eyes. "Warren will be so glad you're here."

"I-is he going to be alright?" Will asked, biting his lip.

"Yes, he is, thank God. They're keeping him in for observation tonight, but hopefully he can go home tomorrow."

Will and Warren simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.

"I need to go somewhere for a couple of hours, Will. Can you promise me that you'll look after Warren for me till I get back?"

"Of course, Mrs Peace."

"Thank you, you're a good kid, Will. I won't be long. He's in sideroom 6A."

Warren heard Will gasp as they entered the sideroom. Whatever Lash had done, Warren's body looked dreadful. He was hooked up to an intravenous drip and was almost as white as the hospital bedsheets. Will almost fell into the chair at Lash's bedside and clasped his arm, drawing it away quickly when he saw how Lash winced.

"God, Warren, how did this happen? Your mom said something about hypothermia?"

Lash winced again as he sat himself up.

"Well, me and Bianca were… heh… enjoying each other's company, and the Ice Queen got a little… over-excited." Lash gave Warren a nasty grin. Warren could feel a peculiar sensation at his finger-tips, almost like pins and needles. It was the same feeling he experienced when he whacked Lash with the branch earlier.

"What can I say?" Lash continued. "I drive the chick wild. You know how it is with girls like her." He looked pointedly at 'Layla' and sniggered. "Or maybe not. Although I'm sure Gwen Grayson knew how to show a guy a good time."

A blush suffused Will's cheeks. Warren had heard enough. He really wanted to burn something. Anything. There was an indescribable sense of satisfaction in flaming something in a fit of rage. But no. He was stuck in the body of a girl whose power was making flowers look pretty. He got up and walked out. Will watched him, his mouth setting into a tight line.

"Warren, I can put up with a lot from you, but I will not have you talk to Layla like that."

Lash shrugged. "Well, its true, isn't it? I mean, isn't that why you dumped the flower child? 'Cause she wasn't doing it for you?"

The plastic armrests of Will's chair buckled and cracked under his hands.

"Shut up! You don't know the first thing about it!"

Just speaking was causing Lash pain at the moment, but this was definitely worth it. He twisted Warren's mouth into a mocking smile. "Oh, I think I do, Stronghold."

Will could hear him laughing as he slammed the door shut on his way out. Will eyed the wilting rubber plant Warren was standing next to in the corridor and shook his head.

"Man, Warren can be such an asshole sometimes. I really don't know why I bother."

Will misinterpreted the worried look on his ex-girlfriend's face.

"It's one thing when Warren has a dig at me, but when it's you…"

Way to go, Lash, you dickhead, Warren thought. Now Stronghold is pissed with me for hurting his precious Layla. He had to salvage the situation somehow. He didn't like the thought of Will thinking he was a complete jerk.

"He didn't mean it, Will. He's just had a nasty shock. This is his way of handling it, by hitting out."

"Yeah?" said Will, still bristling. "Well, I'm sick of it."

"Look, Warren… isn't very good with all the emotional stuff. You know that. Sometimes it's easier to be mean because nobody wants to know you and you can't get hurt. No-one has any expectations of you." Warren took a deep breath. "He may not say it, Will, but… Warren thinks a lot of you." Warren could feel heat rise to his face. "He… really values your friendship."

God, could I sound any more gay? he wondered. There was no way he would have been able to say that as himself. Speaking in third person had its advantages, even if it did feel like he was becoming more and more deranged.

"Really?" Will's tone was doubtful, but there was a small smile emerging on his lips.

"Really."

Will looked thoughtful. "Well, it'd be nice to hear him say that himself."

Warren laughed. "Dream on, Stronghold! M- Warren Peace go all Oprah on your ass? I don't think so!"

Warren had to get out of there. He told Will that he was going home, knowing that Will would stay at the hospital until Warren's mother returned. He'd made a promise, and when a Stronghold made a promise…

Will instructed him to get a taxi and Warren said that he would to stop Will nagging him. For a sixteen year old hero-in-training, Stronghold sure did a good impression of an old woman sometimes. Warren had no intention of getting a cab. He liked to feel the cool night air on his face. It helped him think.

His mother that hard look of grim determination. He hadn't seen her look like that since… Well, for a long time. She looked angry. Really angry. He hoped that she wasn't going to do anything to Bianca. For all her faults, Warren knew there was no way Bianca would have intentionally harmed him.

Warren wandered through the alleys of downtown Maxville in the inky darkness. It was a regular route of his. He'd often walk through the backstreets of the city after a late shift at the Paper Lantern, lost in his thoughts. Sometimes he'd walk for hours, until dawn glimmered on the horizon. He internally debated whether to go to Bianca's house to make sure his mom hadn't done anything rash.

He was so engrossed that he didn't see the two figures blocking his path until it was too late. A large man in a stained denim jacket and a shorter one with a shaved head stood in his way.

"Little late for a nice girl like you to be out, ain't it?" the one in the denim jacket asked, punctuating his question with a loud belch. Warren could smell the stale stench of beer on his breath.

The one with the shaved head snorted. "Heh, maybe that's because she's not a nice girl."

Warren belatedly realised that walking through the less pleasant parts of Maxville at the dead of night as a six foot tall pyro was one thing. Doing it as a pretty teenage girl was another thing entirely.

"Just fuck off, OK?" he said in what would have been a menacing voice. Had he been using his voice. In Layla's voice it sounded anything but.

"Oh, this one's got a smart mouth," Shaved Head sneered.

"Yeah, I can't stand girls that back talk." A flash of silver winked in Denim Jacket's hand.

Along with a rush of adrenalin, Warren could sense the pulsating life-force of every blade of grass, every flower and bud in the vicinity. Must be part of the flight or fight mechanism of an earth elemental, he thought. Shame there wasn't any plant life around that could feasibly help him in this situation.

Denim Jacket pushed Warren roughly against a wall. He could feel the cold touch of metal against his throat.

_Oh, shit._

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A/N

Cliffies, don't you just hate them?

Thanks again for your reviews. More always welcome…

_**AzulTigress**_


	8. Trouble Brewing

_Chapter 8: Trouble Brewing_

The blade's edge was cutting into Warren's throat. He felt a warm trickle of blood run down his neck. There was that scratchy sound of a zipper unfastening. Clumsy hands pawing at him. A hard knot of fear formed at the pit of his stomach.

Then instinct kicked in.

After his father was imprisoned, Warren went off the rails. His mother couldn't control him. When he was eleven, Warren was packed off to his grandmother in China in a last ditch attempt to instil some discipline into him. Zhen Zhixiao Peace was an esteemed _sifu _in Hei Hu Quan kung fu, and her daughter hoped that a spell in her _kwoon_ would help Warren develop some self-control. That spell ended up lasting a whole year, and in that time Warren never did manage to fully tame his temper, despite the interesting punishments his grandmother administered. But Warren was a natural athlete and he did learn a number of nifty martial arts techniques.

Being blessed with an inbuilt flame-thrower and being cursed with a villainous parentage meant that Warren didn't practice much these days. He didn't need to, most people just stayed the hell out of his way. But now the old moves resurfaced from a dark recess of his subconscious.

With a quick twist, he knocked away the knife and kicked Denim Jacket sharply in the groin. As he was doubled over and grunting in pain, Warren dealt him another kick to the back of the head, and he collapsed to the sidewalk, unmoving. Warren spun around quickly, ducking a poorly-executed punch from Shaved Head and delivered a sweeping kick to his shins. Shaved Head fell to his knees, swearing, and Warren thrust a punch into his face. He felt the man's nose split open under his fist in a burst of scarlet.

He had to get out of there. Layla wasn't as fit as him and he was fortunate that he had both the element of surprise and the fact that his two attackers were drunk on his side. Without another thought, Warren sprinted away, sticking to well-lit main streets, cursing himself for his stupidity.

When he reached the Williams' front door, the key kept tumbling from his unsteady fingers. After picking it up from the porch for a fourth time, Warren finally managed to unlock the door. He shut it slowly behind him and rested his forehead against the cold, painted wood. He couldn't stop shaking. He had never felt so vulnerable before. His strength and his fire were things he took for granted, he never imagined he could feel so threatened. So helpless.

* * *

Layla couldn't remember the last time Will had kissed her like that. It was incredible, his mouth felt amazing. His fingers brushed her arms, leaving a wave of goosebumps in their wake. Their bodies seemed to be melding together as the kisses grew stronger and Layla buried her hands in his messy hair. His mouth travelled from hers to her neck, to her collarbone, then lower… Layla groaned as she twisted her fingers into his hair. His hair… which had suddenly become darker and a little longer, if no less messy. He lifted his face to look at her and she realised it wasn't Will. It was Lash. He smiled at her and resumed the kisses, his lips continuing their descent on her body. It felt so good, she didn't want it to stop… 

Then she woke up. She was still in Lash's body. It was _unmistakably _Lash's body. Oh God, it was all just too hideously, unpleasantly, horribly weird. And she needed a shower. A really cold shower. Preferably followed by a long lie down in a bathtub of ice. Eurgghh… It really was no picnic being inside the body of a teenage boy and having to deal with… boy things. And what was with that dream, anyway? She could understand Will, but Lash? The bodyswap was seriously eroding her sanity.

One freezing shower later and Layla resorted to one of the few things that helped soothe her nerves. Donning a baggy t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants, Layla stood in the middle of Lash's spacious bedroom. The grey morning light shone through her closed eyelids as she inhaled and exhaled in deep, controlled breaths. She was feeling much calmer even before she went through several rounds of the sun salutation. So, there were some benefits to being in Lash's stupid, bendy body, Layla thought as she started going through some more complex poses. She had been practising yoga for a while, but knew she could be doing it for years and never be as limber as Lash.

Layla was just finishing an extremely difficult inverted pose, which involved her resting her bodyweight on her elbows, raising her legs and curving them upwards so that her body resembled a reversed 'c' shape, when Lash's cell phone started ringing. Her concentration broken, Layla collapsed into a tangled heap on the floor, Lash's elasticated legs somehow managing to wrap themselves around the back of her head.

There was a hesitant knock at the door.

"Son, are you alright in there?"

Layla felt a furious blush burn her cheeks. She tried vainly to free herself, but was steadfastly stuck. "Umm… I could do with a little help…"

"What in the world…" said Mr Langford as he entered Lash's bedroom and saw the state Layla had gotten herself into.

"Laurence, what on earth were you doing?" he asked, disentangling his son.

"_Vrschikasana_," Layla muttered feebly, getting to her feet.

"Excuse me?"

She sighed as her blush deepened. "The scorpion pose."

Mr Langford looked at Layla like she was unhinged. She tried to explain that it was a yoga move, but it didn't seem to help any.

"Son, I really think you need to get out more," said Mr Langford, pulling out his wallet and cramming a couple of twenty dollar bills into Layla's hand. "It's a Saturday. Why don't you call some of your friends and go catch a movie or something? In fact, I think I heard your cell ringing earlier. Find out who it was and enjoy your youth before it's too late."

Layla picked up Lash's sleek, black cell phone as Mr Langford left the room. A message blinked on the display screen.

_1 missed call_

_Speed_

She switched the phone off. She may have been lonely, but she wasn't desperate.

* * *

Warren was a foetal ball curled beneath Layla's quilt when Mr Williams tried to rouse him at an ungodly hour earlier that morning. He reminded Warren that he was supposed to be helping at the animal shelter like he did every Saturday. Warren tugged the covers tighter around himself and muttered that he was unwell. 

He did feel bad about lying to Layla's dad, but there was no way he could face tending a bunch of vomiting, defecating animals. He was still shaken over what had happened the night before. Warren touched the small cut on his neck with his forefinger. It was more like a scratch, but he still felt the now familiar sensation of guilt wash over him. He had been in Layla's body for all of two days and in that time he'd managed to kiss Will and get attacked. Really, was he any better than Lash?

Warren pretended to be asleep when Bonnie came into Layla's room. He felt a sticky kiss on his cheek and a chubby, little hand clumsily pat his forehead in what Bonnie probably thought was a very grownup way. After Bonnie had noisily shut the door behind her, Warren opened his eyes and saw that she had left him her Teletubbies book and a one-eyed teddy bear. This just made him feel even worse. Why did the Williamses have to be so goddamn _nice_?

From under the comforting, cocoon-like warmth of the bedcovers, Warren heard Mr Williams' car pull out of the driveway. Silence blanketed the house and Warren shut his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep, but as the hours passed, he knew it wasn't going to happen.

When the door bell chimed, Warren remained where he was. But the caller was persistent and continued to press the bell, alternating between long and short rings for a couple of minutes. Warren groaned and pressed the pillow firmly against his ears. Eventually, the ringing stopped, but there was a tap on Layla's bedroom window, followed by a louder thud. Now they were throwing stones at the window. Whoever it was, it was clear they were not going to give up easily. With a final groan, Warren threw off the bedcovers and flung open the window to find a tall, fair-haired boy in very loud clothes and a short, dark girl in purple. Zach grinned and waved, Magenta's raised eyebrow said 'about time.'

"Yo, Layla! We stopped by the animal shelter, but your dad said you weren't feeling well, so me and Maj thought we'd…" Zach paused and squinted at Warren. "Jeez! What's happened to you?"

Warren's hand went to cover his neck. Shit! He had hoped that the cut wasn't noticeable.

A worried frown that matched Zach's had also settled on Magenta's face. "Whoa, it must be bad if you can't even get out the straightening irons!"

What the hell is she talking about? thought Warren.

"Sorry?"

"The hair, Layla. It's a little more pre-Raphaelite than your usual look."

Warren stole a quick glance in Layla's mirror. Layla's thick, long hair, usually glossy and poker-straight, was a dense snarl of red curls. Well, Layla's hairstyle was the least of his worries right now.

"So, are you going to let us in?" asked Magenta, twirling the strap of her purple messenger bag impatiently between her fingers.

"Yeah," said Zach. "We're going to visit Ethan later, but we just wanted to come over and make sure you're OK first."

Warren was half-tempted to tell them to leave him alone, but thought he better not add 'alienating friends' to the growing list of ways he was wrecking Layla's life.

"OK," Warren said with a sigh, grabbing Layla's dressing gown. "I'll be right down."

Magenta and Zach sat in the kitchen as Warren fetched them glasses of organic orange juice.

"Uhh… So, Layla, how've you been feeling lately?" Zach asked awkwardly.

Warren shrugged. "Same as usual, I suppose."

"It's just that… uhh…" Zach drummed his fingers on the table. "Uhh…"

Magenta heaved a sigh. "What Zach is trying to say is that we've both been worried about you." Magenta's face was completely free of her trademark sarcasm as she continued earnestly. "Things have been pretty rough for you lately, but don't think that just because me and Zach are a couple now we don't want you hanging out with us, or that you can't talk to us about anything."

"Yeah," Zach smiled, hitting Warren softly on the shoulder. "Us sidekicks gotta stick together!"

It struck Warren that in the past year, he hadn't really gotten to know Zach and Magenta that well. Everyone was peripheral next to Will and, to some extent, Bianca. But it looked like he'd missed out on a couple of good friends.

Zach drained his glass quickly and went over to put it in the sink. He suddenly started banging his fist on the window and waving. It wasn't long before a rumpled-looking Will Stronghold walked through the Williams' back door.

"What is this?" Magenta smirked. "National Bad Hair Day? Or did I miss the memo that said the bed head look was back in?"

"I've been at the Maxville General Hospital all night," Will said, drawing up a chair and collapsing into it. "Didn't Layla tell you about Warren?"

Will filled Magenta and Zach in on the details and added that Warren was much better and had just been discharged home.

"Mrs Peace said she was only gonna be gone a couple of hours," Will continued, yawning widely. "But she didn't get back till about 7.30 this morning."

"Really? Did she seem OK?" Warren asked, unable to mask the anxiety in his voice.

"I guess," Will said suspiciously. "Why?"

"No reason," said Warren quickly, but he could tell that wasn't going to satisfy Will. He could have kicked himself for asking, but he was concerned about his mother. "Umm… I know Warren's been worried about her lately, that's all."

Great, thought Warren. I'm playing the third-person game again and revealing too much.

Will scowled. "Hmph. I was beginning to think getting Warren to open up was like getting blood out of a stone, but I didn't realise you were both so close."

Will was pouting like a spoilt brat who wasn't getting his own way. Warren felt himself reddening. Stronghold was so goddamn infuriating sometimes!

"Get over it, Will," Warren snapped. "You're acting like a girl. So Warren doesn't share every minute detail of his life with you. So what? What's the big deal?"

Will opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Warren knew that he was being unfair, but, illogically, that knowledge just served to intensify his anger.

Zach decided to hastily, and obviously, change the subject.

"Dudes, did anyone else notice the freaky ass weather last night?"

Magenta blinked and stifled a groan. Zach meant well, but she rather doubted a nice little chat about the weather was going to diffuse the tension. Little did either of them know of the effect Zach's seemingly innocent question had on Warren.

"What do you mean?" he asked Zach sharply.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear it," said Zach. "It was like hurricane force winds or something. Man, I woke up 'cause the whole house was shaking."

"You sleep like a log in a coma, Zach," Maj snorted. "It must've been strong if it woke _you_ up, though I can't say I heard anything last night."

Zach lived a couple of blocks away from Bianca, Warren thought wildly. Mom disappeared for hours last night. My aerokinetic mom, who had the ability to control the wind…

"So what happened?" asked Warren, panicky.

"Umm… that was it," mumbled Zach, scratching his head nervously. He couldn't understand Layla's sudden interest in meteorology, or why his friend had a half-crazed look in her eyes. "The wind was really strong for about ten, maybe fifteen minutes then it stopped. End of."

"Are you sure?" Warren seized hold of Zach's fluorescent t-shirt. "Tell me!"

"Hey, chill, Layla," said Magenta gently. "Just calm down."

Warren could almost feel the relief rising from the glow worm as he let go of Zach's shirt. He closed his eyes. Maj was right, he had to calm down. He was starting to freak them all out. Layla Williams did not go around threatening people. He had to be rational. His mom had to be OK, or else Will definitely would have said something.

"Sorry…"

"It's OK," said Zach, smoothing out his t-shirt. The look that he and Magenta exchanged did not go unnoticed by Warren.

Will got up and made his way to the Williams' back door, his broad shoulders sagging. "Well, if you're done, I'm going to go home and get some sleep. Catch you all later."

* * *

Later... 

"Honey, you have a visitor."

Lash looked up to see Will Stronghold standing next to Warren's mother in the doorway of Warren's room, a red and white striped box in his hand. Mrs Peace had instructed Lash to stay in bed and he was much too weak to object, so he spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep. There was something seriously weird going on with Mrs Peace. That morning when she took him home from the hospital she seemed energised, rejuvenated somehow, but she looked tired and worn-out again as she flashed Will a small smile before disappearing.

"Just came over to see how you were and to give you these," Will tossed the box over to Lash. "I know you like them."

Lash opened the box and inspected the contents. Licorice snaps? What was Peace, like five years old? Lash thought contemptuously as he grabbed a handful of the pastel-coloured candy and stuffed one into his mouth.

"I'll take that as a 'thank you'," Will remarked acidly as he sat on the end of Warren's bed.

He sat in silence for a while, watching Lash eat the candy.

"You really upset Layla last night," he said, glaring at Lash. "And me. We were really worried about you and then you go and say something like that. It's not fair, Warren."

Lash groaned. He realised that Stronghold wasn't going to leave him alone without an apology.

"Look, I'm sorry, Stronghold," he said with as much genuine-sounding remorse as he could muster. "I guess I just wasn't myself last night." Well, at least that much was true, he thought. "You could say I had other things on my mind, like a near death experience. And I'll apologise to the hippie later. How was she anyway?"

Appeased by Lash's words, the moody expression on Will's face became one of concern.

"She was pretty forgiving about it, actually. But I guess that's Layla; she always sees the good in people."

Will chewed his lower lip and ran his hands through his unruly hair.

"I'm worried about her, Warren. She's been acting really weird, sorta snappy and intense."

Lash didn't have to know Will to see that the younger teen was deeply troubled. Will's honest face was an open book. A heavily illustrated book with large print. He wasn't one to hide his emotions.

"She kissed me last night."

Lash started choking on a licorice snap. Will slapped him between his shoulder blades.

"Yeah, I know. It was a shock all right. I knew the break up hit her pretty bad, but I thought she was getting over it."

With a hacking cough, Lash managed to dislodge the candy from his throat.

"Funny thing is, she's never kissed me like that before. It was…" Will was silent for a few moments, clearly racking his brain for a fitting adjective before giving up.

"…weird," he finished lamely.

Lash held his fist to his mouth and tried to look thoughtful and understanding, but in reality he wanted to burst out laughing.

They _kissed_? How very interesting. Lash knew that he was going to have a lot more fun being Warren Peace than he first thought.

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A/N

Mmm… Much as I like Warren and Will, Lash is just so deliciously bad!

For all of you who reviewed last time, many thanks and sorry about the delay. Just started a new term at college, so life's been insanely busy! But am determined to finish this story, so please stick with it.

Hopefully I'll be back in a soonish update :D

_**AzulTigress**_


	9. The 'Kicks Are Alright

_Chapter 9: The 'Kicks Are Alright_

"Stop right there! What do you think you're doing?"

The trio of Hero Support freshmen visibly trembled as Lash's tall figure strode down the corridor towards them, a look of extreme disapproval on his face. The smallest one, a pale, sickly-looking boy, held his arms protectively over his face as Lash stretched his arm and…

…removed the soda can the pale boy had put in the regular trashcan and dropped it into the green recycling can beside it.

"Did you know that over 50 billion aluminium cans in the US were incinerated or landfilled last year?" Layla asked the pale boy sternly.

"N-no…"

Lash's face was lit up with an almost religious fervour as Layla launched into one of her favourite subjects.

"I didn't think so. Well, tossing away an aluminium can wastes as much energy as pouring out half that can's volume of gasoline. In fact, 3 per cent of the world's total electricity goes into making new cans. And don't even get me started on how many millions of tons of greenhouse gases the global aluminium industry produces each year!"

Magenta couldn't quite hear what Lash was saying, but she was close enough to see that the jerk was engaging in his usual pastime of terrorising sidekicks. The pale one looked like he was about to cry. Magenta marched over to them.

"Hey! Is he hassling you?"

"No," said Layla weakly. "I was just trying to educate them about the environment."

Magenta stood between Layla and the sidekicks and gave Layla her best withering glare.

"Yeah, sure you are, Lash," she said, her hands on her hips. "Can you even _spell_ 'environment'?"

More than anything, Layla wanted to tell Maj what was going on. She'd had enough of pretending to be Lash. The weekend was terrible, so lonely. She hadn't felt this bad since she first broke up with Will.

"Umm…"

"Not such a badass without your buddy Speed, are you?" Zach asked, walking up behind his girlfriend. It had been a while since Lash had bullied him, he didn't dare after Will got his powers, but Layla could see that although Zach was puffing out his skinny chest bravely, he wasn't quite meeting her eye.

"Yeah, Lash," Magenta added. "Notice how no-one round here likes you? And no-one's scared of you anymore. You have to get your kicks tormenting freshmen. You are truly pathetic."

"A-actually," interjected the pale sidekick timidly, his watery eyes darting nervously from Magenta to Layla. "He _was_ telling us to recycle."

Magenta was unexpectedly lost for words, but was saved from having to think up a suitably sarcastic quip by the arrival of Warren.

"Everything OK?"

Warren gave Layla a quick, furtive smile before turning to Zach and Magenta. Layla gawked at him. Her hair… Warren plainly hadn't been using that expensive super-hydrating conditioner she'd bought. Or straightening irons. Or possibly even a hairbrush. And what was he wearing? Layla didn't think she owned any black t-shirts, then she remembered the old one she wore when she helped her parents redecorate the dining room a couple of months ago. When she looked more closely, she could see that there were still speckles of white paint on the sleeves.

"Hey, Layla!" said Zach, as the freshmen took the opportunity to scuttle away unnoticed. "Just making sure ol' Lashy boy's behaving himself."

Layla looked miserable. Warren suddenly felt very sorry for her. In some ways she'd wound up with the raw deal of the whole mindswap mess. At least he still had his friends. He still had Will. But Layla had no-one. And she was getting grief from everyone for someone else's bad behaviour. Warren certainly knew what that felt like.

"If he's not upsetting anyone, just give him a break."

"Give him a _break_?" Magenta repeated, looking at Warren disbelievingly. "Since when did he give us a break? When he was shoving Zach into lockers? When he was giving Ethan swirlies?"

Magenta gave Layla a dangerous look. "When his friend was throwing Ethan off the gym roof?"

"_Good morning, Sky High,"_ Principal Powers' voice drifted along the corridor from the speakers along the walls. _"Would all students who have brought their parents for Career Day please report to your homerooms?"_

Layla decided this was a good a time as any to make an exit as she skulked off to Ms Hunter's classroom. She had other things to think about today.

Warren opened up Layla's locker and took out her brick-like copy of _Aqualad to Zook: A History of Hero Support Through the Ages_ as Maj continued to mutter darkly about Lash. He wondered where Will was. He hadn't seen him all of Sunday and he wasn't on the bus earlier. He thought about his outburst on Saturday morning. Will was probably avoiding him. Not that it mattered. He didn't own Will or anything and he definitely was not missing him. Not after just one day, for God's sake. But he was used to having him around.

Then he saw him, walking down the corridor, talking enthusiastically and laughing. With Lash. Warren felt an oppressive heaviness swell inside him. Lash caught his eye and smiled. He was still looking a little peaky, but otherwise bore no obvious signs of his recent brush with hypothermia. The heaviness increased when they both came over and Will informed them that he and 'Warren' were practising for the Save the Citizen World Championship tryouts after school.

"It's Warren's idea that we make a start now, but I agree with him," Will said, touching Warren's arm. Warren felt himself blush as Will's fingertips brushed against his bare skin. His body was too close. Far too close.

"Just imagine if we made the finals in Tokyo," he continued excitedly, his eyes shining. "It would be so awesome!"

At the sound of the bell, the group started making their way to their respective classes. Lash barged past Warren, knocking his Hero Support textbook out of his hands. Warren gasped as it stubbed his foot and he stooped to pick it up from the floor.

"Sorry," Lash said, but the spiteful smile he flashed wasn't apologetic in the slightest.

* * *

Ms Hunter made Layla feel edgy. Layla disliked the air of scarcely restrained violence she radiated; it was completely at odds with her own pacifist philosophy. From the Hero lesson she attended on Friday, Layla gathered that Ms Hunter, whose combined powers of super-strength and super-reflexes meant she was unmatched in hand-to-hand combat when she was still on the hero scene, was very much of the 'attack first ask questions later' school of thought. 

Some people said that Ms Hunter's preferred method of dispatching enemies was to crush their skulls between her forefinger and thumb. Looking into her fierce, jet black eyes, Layla could well believe it. But she seemed to be chatting quite nicely to Mr Langford as the classroom slowly filled with students. Lash stopped in the doorway for a few seconds before entering, staring at Mr Langford. Bianca Frost carefully stepped around him, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, but she needn't have bothered as Lash didn't notice her.

"_You're _here?"

"I'm sorry," said Mr Langford, smiling benignly at him. "Have we met?"

Ooops, thought Layla. Lash looked far from happy to see his father.

"Uhhh… Dad, this is… my classmate, Warren Peace."

On hearing Warren's name, Mr Langford's smile rapidly slipped from his face, his expression becoming one of barely disguised suspicion. It was a look all too familiar to Warren, but was completely lost on Lash.

"I see…" Mr Langford's voice trailed off, the arm he had extended as if to shake Lash's hand snapping back to his side. Lash merely grunted in reply and went to his desk.

"Graduation may seem like a long way off to you all right now," began Ms Hunter when the class had settled into their seats. "But I can assure you the day you put on your spandex and cape will come all too soon enough. To help you decide on your futures, we have invited your parents to talk to you about their own unique hero experiences."

She motioned towards Lash's father. "The first parent at our Career Day is Mr Langford, formerly of the superhero team the Delta Division. The Delta Division were the foremost superteam of their time, so we are very privileged to have Mr Langford with us today."

There was a lukewarm ripple of applause from the class as Mr Langford stepped forward. Layla smiled at him encouragingly.

"Many thanks for such a glowing introduction, Ms Hunter," Mr Langford said, nodding at the teacher. She smiled at him graciously.

Mr Langford continued, "There were seven of us in the Delta Division – Obscura, Gadgeteer, Scintilla, Hydro Dude, Madame Mesmero, Graviton, and Behemoth. Between us we had the power of invisibility, capabilities of an inventor, ability to size-shift, hydrokinesis, telepathy, control over gravity and super-strength…"

Mr Langford became progressively more animated as he relived his glory days to the class, speaking of his team-mates and their joint accomplishments with deep affection and pride. The students listened raptly to his stories, of the Division's first mission, foiling a plan by the supervillain Astro to enslave humanity using alien brain slugs, how the Division defeated Master Blaster, a power-hungry supremacist supervillain who could create massive energy blasts and was holding a whole city hostage... Layla could see that they were quietly impressed. Lash's reaction, however, she couldn't gauge as Warren's desk was a couple of rows in front of her. Her eyes flickered from Mr Langford to the red streaks on the back of Warren's hair.

Ms Hunter thanked Mr Langford and asked the class if they had any questions. Kris Fraser, a good-looking but, in Layla's opinion, grotesquely arrogant boy asked Mr Langford what his power was. Without hesitation, Mr Langford informed him that he didn't have a power as such, but as Gadgeteer he designed the team's vehicles and weapons.

"So, you were a sidekick, then?" asked Kris a little rudely. Some of the students started whispering. Layla saw Lash shift in his seat.

"Yes, I was," affirmed Mr Langford. "Although I understand the more politically-correct term these days is 'hero support.'"

Bianca raised her hand and asked why the Delta Division were no longer active. Mr Langford loosened his tie and collar apprehensively.

"We disbanded nine years ago after we battled Maximum Kaos."

"Oh yeah, didn't Kaos and his cyborg army take a few of you out?" Kris asked, somewhat insensitively Layla thought.

Mr Langford's mouth tightened. He looked at Layla, worry etched into his face. Ms Hunter glanced uneasily from Mr Langford to Layla.

"Yes," Mr Langford said quietly after a long moment of silence. "It was one of the worst times of my life. We… lost some good people. It was hard, in fact it still is. But that's the risk you take when you become a hero."

Mr Langford looked around at the class, his face grave and serious. "You are among the few who have the power to truly change the world, but you would do well to remember that such job satisfaction comes with a heavy price."

Suddenly, Lash rose from his seat.

"And where do you think you're going, Mr Peace?" Ms Hunter asked, but Lash didn't respond and slammed the door on his way out.

Layla's eyes narrowed. Lash was such an idiot. Did it really matter if his dad was a sidekick? He really needed to grow up.

"I don't want you associating with that Peace boy," Mr Langford warned Layla outside of Ms Hunter's classroom at the end of the talk. "He's obviously been a bad influence on you."

"But you don't even know him!" Layla protested.

"Perhaps," Mr Langford admitted. "But I do know Barron Battle, and if Warren Peace is anything like his father…"

Layla could feel her temper rising. This was all a bit rich coming from the dad of the wannabe villain Lash.

"Who his dad is isn't who he is. You of all people should know not to prejudge someone on a label they've been given!"

There was a loud clang and Layla turned around. Will was looking at her nonplussed. He had wrenched his locker door off its hinges and it had fallen to the ground.

"You're right, son," smiled Mr Langford as he gripped Lash's shoulder. "You know, you're more mature than I give you credit for. You don't know how much this means to me, you asking me to come here today, but I really hope it didn't upset you when your classmates started talking about Kaos. I should have anticipated that. Are you OK? I know we never talk about…"

Mr Langford breathed out slowly, "…what happened to your mom."

Oh no, Layla thought. Suddenly it all made sense. The snide remarks made by Lash's grandfather. Why Lash's mom wasn't around but her pictures were. Why Lash's brother and his father didn't mention her. Lash's mom was in the Delta Division. She was killed by Maximum Kaos! No wonder Lash stormed out of the classroom. It didn't matter that another parent was about to start addressing the class, she had to find him…

She knew he had to be somewhere on the school grounds, it wasn't as if he could fly off. Unless he stole one of the buses. Which did seem like something Lash would do.

Having exhausted all possible hiding places indoors, Layla ventured out onto the drizzly sports field. She shivered slightly at the cold and was about to turn back when she glimpsed a faint amber spark from beneath the bleachers. She squelched through the mud to the spot where Lash was sheltering from the faint rain. His face looked strange and blotchy as he lit up a cigarette with a flame on the tip of Warren's forefinger. Layla very nearly informed Lash that there were over forty known carcinogens in cigarette smoke, but realised that such a statement probably would not produce a favourable response.

"I can't believe you did that to me, you evil bitch," he spat. "Bringing my dad here. Trying to embarrass me, were you? Make everyone laugh at me 'cause I've got a stupid sidekick father?"

"No! Your dad's a great guy, I was only trying to help…"

"Well, don't!" said Lash as he turned his back to her.

Layla hesitated. Warren was probably right before when he said she should keep out of other people's business, but she couldn't help it. Not when someone was clearly hurting. Even if that someone was a nasty piece of work like Lash Langford.

"I'm sorry if having your dad here today brought back… bad memories."

Lash spun around, his eyes glinting like hard obsidian. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Just stay out of my life!"

"Little tricky, don't you think, when I'm actually _living_ your life?" Layla said exasperatedly. "Maybe if you could just fill me in on a few details I won't mess it up anymore."

"So you can laugh at me some more?" Lash asked as he started walking away from her. "I don't fucking think so."

* * *

That _bitch_, Lash thought. Oh yeah, Layla Williams made out she was all sweetness and light, but he knew what she was trying to do to him. At least Speed wasn't around to witness this, to see everyone laughing at him and his father. But she had been right about the memories his dad's talk brought back. There were things that he dealt with by not dealing with them. You couldn't feel bad if you didn't think about the things that made you feel bad, Lash reasoned. 

He felt his gut churn as he walked past the cafeteria at lunch. All the students milling about with their friends. He could imagine what they were saying about him. The jokes they were making at his expense.

Then he saw the ideal vent for his frustration walking towards the library, that stupid sidekick book in his hand. Warren Peace. Yeah, he saw how Warren had turned red when Will was talking to him earlier, and how pissed he looked when Will said they were going to be spending most evenings practising Save the Citizen together. It was so freaking obvious.

"Hello, Peace," Lash said just loud enough for Warren to hear as he intercepted him. "I've been meaning to have a little chat with you all day."

Warren tried to walk around him, but Lash blocked his way.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to be hogging little Stronghold after school, I mean I am doing it for his own good and all."

Warren decided to ignore him. Lash was obviously trying to get a rise out of him, but he wouldn't let him have the satisfaction.

Lash decided to change his tack. "Don't worry, I've figured out what your problem is, Peace. Now that I've met your mother I see that being a loser is a hereditary condition."

"Shut it…"

Lash smiled. He knew he'd get there eventually. The quick-tempered ones were always so much fun.

"What's her problem, anyway? Your place is a hole and she looks a mess. Doesn't she have any self-respect?"

"I said shut the fuck up! Don't you fucking dare…" Warren raised a fist to strike him and Lash knocked it away easily. He was much taller and stronger than him now. People turned to look at Warren. It wasn't everyday that they saw goody-goody Layla Williams completely flip out.

Lash laughed and Warren felt his anger boil over. How dare he talk about his mom like that? The prickly sensation he felt in his hands when he caught Lash kissing Bianca returned tenfold. It travelled from his fingers to every nerve ending in his body, it was almost like being on fire, but instead of releasing a torrent of destructive flame, Warren felt a life-giving energy burst out.

There was a weird sensation in the air, it cackled like static. A couple of the more sensitive students, including the pale sidekick that Layla had earlier been teaching about the joys of recycling, fainted. The floor shook violently as dark tree roots ripped up the corridor to hysterical screams. Roots began winding around Lash's legs. He cried out and burned them off, flinging a fireball at Warren's feet.

"Enough!"

The flame on Lash's fist extinguished swiftly and the roots slunk back into the ground at the sound of Principal Powers' voice. She coldly surveyed the havoc that was once a corridor and was now a mess of charred rubble.

"Warren, detention room. I don't think I need to give you directions. Layla, please come to my office."

Warren felt light-headed, almost delirious, as he followed Principal Powers, the sea of shocked faces surrounding him a blur. But one caught his eye. Layla. She looked horrified.

Layla watched herself being led away by the principal, with that knotted hair snaking down her shoulders she looked like a wild Medusa. How the hell did that happen? She didn't think she was physically capable of summoning that much power, but then she never raged like Warren did. Then a second, more disturbing, thought hit her.

Oh God. She was getting _detention!_

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A/N:

Regular readers will notice that I've lowered the rating (I was being a little over-cautious when I first posted this as it was my first fic), changed the secondary genre from Angst to Drama (this story was much more angsty in my head) and added a disclaimer in the first chap (I suddenly developed an irrational fear of infringing copyright and being hunted down by Disney!!)

Before I go, I'd like to say a **huge** thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Sadly, I'm too busy to update as often as I'd like, but your comments mean a lot and you all really motivate me to keep going with this!

Big hugs,

**_AzulTigress_**


	10. Green Eyed Monsters

_Chapter 10: Green-Eyed Monsters _

The principal's office. It wasn't the first time Warren had been summoned here, and in all probability, it wasn't going to be the last. But he had a feeling that this was unfamiliar territory to Layla. She looked appalled when they passed her in the hall.

Warren's skin still tingled. It was as if a dull hum was coursing through his body; he could sense the sap flowing through each and every plant on the school grounds. The trees, the flowers, the grass… He had no idea there was so much vegetation at the school. The colours in Principal Powers' office were too bright, they made his eyes sting. All of his senses were heightened to an almost unbearable level, it was as if he were conscious of everything.

Warren focussed on steadying his breathing, gripping the armrests of his chair and keeping his gaze on the polished surface of Principal Powers' mahogany desk. The cactus on the principal's window sill quivered in its pot and released its sharp spines like a flurry of darts. With a small sigh, Principal Powers calmly removed one that had hit the back of her hand and held it up to Warren.

"Do you call this being in control of your powers?"

Warren didn't answer, he was too preoccupied with trying to manage his breathing. Slowly, he could feel Layla's body return to its normal state.

"I tried to be understanding when you refused hero classes. Indeed, I admit I respected your integrity, however misplaced I thought it might be. But this just isn't like you, Layla."

Principal Powers gave Warren a concerned look. "Are you having problems at home?"

"No," he replied. But that's probably going to change when Layla's parents find out that she's been given detention for fighting, he thought.

"I heard about you and Will Stronghold," Principal Powers said in a softer tone. "Believe me, I understand what you're going through. I know it's somewhat trite to say that the first cut is the deepest, but it will get better, I promise you."

Warren said nothing. He had long ago learnt that it was best to be as tight-lipped as possible in these situations, and to never, ever volunteer information. Stronghold, on the other hand, with his tell all mentality, Warren could well imagine 'fessing up to every misdeed he had ever committed, including the time he over-fed the class goldfish in second grade.

Principal Powers sighed again. "Oh, Layla. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would have had difficulty believing you would attack anyone, but Warren? I thought you were friends?"

Warren stayed taciturn, refusing to look at her. He'd seen disappointment in those grey eyes before and he didn't really need to see it again.

"Go easy on him. He's had a lot to deal with for someone so young, and he may think otherwise, but I do like him. He's got a good heart beneath that gruff exterior and he needs friends like you and Will."

Principal Powers folded her arms. "Don't look so surprised, Layla. You and Will Stronghold have been a good influence on Warren. He's never been one to make friends easily and it would be a real shame if you two fell out."

"Yes, ma'am," said Warren obediently, but he _was_ surprised. He always thought that Principal Powers viewed him a troublemaker with no redeeming qualities. Will had said to him once that sometimes Warren's paranoia was his greatest enemy, which had seriously pissed Warren off at the time. With his background, Warren thought it was only natural that he could be a bit defensive on occasion. But Will had been right, sometimes Warren was so determined to believe that everyone saw the worst in him that he was distorting reality.

Warren wasn't paying much attention to the principal as she continued to talk. She was saying something about the hero/hero support streams, how it was flawed in some ways but was necessary. The subject didn't interest him. Only liberal moralisers like Layla could believe that everyone should be taught in the same way. Which would be fine if everyone had the same ability. But they didn't. Could someone with dyscalculia cope with advanced algebra? Could a numbers genius flourish doing remedial math? After a few moments silence, Warren realised that Principal Powers was waiting for a response from him.

"Layla, I asked why you are so against being moved to hero classes."

"Umm… I'm not ashamed to be hero support?" replied Warren, but without much conviction.

"And no-one should be," the principal said firmly. She picked up an ornate silver picture frame from her desk and turned it around so that Warren could see the photo. It was of two women, both with matching wide smiles and both wearing costumes and masks, but one was dressed head to toe in white whilst the other was clad in black.

"This is me, back in the day with my hero support. My _sister_. Coach Clamp didn't think that control over shadows was a hero-worthy power, so Darcy was put on the sidekick track when we were both in Sky High. Whether I agree or disagree with that decision is immaterial. Fact is, I was proud to have her as my hero support. We were a great team."

Principal Powers set the picture frame back down on the desk, a faint smile on her lips as she cast a final glance at the photo before looking Warren in the eyes. "Historically, the coaches at Sky High have always conducted power placement. Humans are fallible and it's a very subjective process, so I don't doubt that mistakes happen." At this Principal Powers' features hardened. "As I believe was the case with you, Layla. I don't like to speak ill of my colleagues, but you should never have been put through power placement without showing your power."

She continued, "And don't think I haven't noticed your grades. You're effortlessly getting straight A's, which indicates you're finding hero support too easy. But then, maybe that's what you're scared of, facing some real competition among the heroes and the possibility of failing."

Principal Powers paused, looking at Warren intently.

"Would you agree, that you're not up to the challenge?"

Warren massaged his temples. Oh, that Principal Powers was a sly one. He thought for a long moment as he examined her ever-so slightly smug expression. She had him backed in a corner and she knew it.

"No," he said wearily. He could hardly say yes, could he?

Principal Powers' grin grew. "Then prove it. Sadly, you demonstrated today that you need further training to ensure you can handle your power safely. I'm afraid I don't really have much choice about this decision."

Warren suppressed a groan. He could tell that Principal Powers had been waiting for a while for Layla to slip up like this. He had a sneaky suspicion that the hippie was going to be pissed at him for more than getting her detention.

* * *

Layla let the rich, velvety sweetness melt in on her tongue. Mmm… Chocolate ice cream would make it all better. Specifically, triple chocolate ice cream topped with whipped cream, hot fudge sauce and extra sprinkles. After school she had gone to Sundae Best, the ice cream parlour at the mall, with the sole intention of ordering the most calorific item on the menu. It was the ultimate guilt-free dessert – Lash could probably do with a few extra pounds anyway, she justified. Although he seemed the type to have a high metabolism. The bastard. 

Her parents were going to be furious with her. Not so much for getting detention _per se_. God knows that they'd gotten in enough trouble with authority figures themselves in their younger days. But they had been protesting against animal testing and nuclear weapons at the time. Non-violent protesting. She had been fighting another student. And how improbable was her excuse – sorry, Mom and Dad, it wasn't my fault because my body was being possessed by a hot-headed pyro with anger management issues? She spooned more ice cream into her mouth. She couldn't talk to anyone about how bad she felt, so now was the time for some major comfort eating.

Some guy singing a whiny love song was playing on the radio. She snorted scornfully into her ice cream, but the more she listened, the more it seemed to make sense. She tried to ignore the lyrics, which spoke of losing love, losing a friend. Losing the person you thought was The One. Layla plunged her spoon deeper into the ice cream dish and pulled it out again, but somehow it managed to miss her mouth, ice cream splattering against her cheek and chin.

It had been about a week since she'd last cried about Will, but it hit her all over again. It was as if the scab had been ripped off and someone had poured salt into the gaping wound beneath. What was wrong with her? Why didn't he want her? Layla knew she was a good person. She didn't think she was the prettiest girl in the school, but it wasn't as if she was unattractive. If Will, who had known her practically all her life didn't love her, then who else would?

Layla's eyes blurred with tears. Ice cream wasn't helping at all. She began to sob, oblivious to the strange looks the other diners were giving her. Her life was too horrible at the moment.

"'sup, man?"

Layla looked up at the person who had pulled up the chair opposite her. Oh wonderful, she thought, just what I need.

Speed stared at his friend Lash. His friend Lash who had chocolate ice cream smeared around his face and was shamelessly crying in public.

"Dude, what the hell is up with you?"

Layla quickly wiped her face.

"It's nothing," she said after blowing her nose noisily into a paper napkin. "You wouldn't understand anyway."

"O-K," Speed muttered, shaking his head as if to erase the sight he had just seen from his memory. Layla sighed deeply and pushed away her ice cream dish. She had suddenly lost her appetite.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked. "I mean, haven't you been grounded or something?" Layla was not in the mood for being friendly, especially not to the likes of Speed.

"You know I have," Speed grinned and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "But what the folks don't _see_ they don't _know_, right? Man, I love being superfast!"

They sat in silence, Layla thinking hard for an excuse to leave. Speed fidgeted as he eyed her ice cream.

"You done with that?"

"Sure, go knock yourself out," Layla shrugged.

Speed swiftly consumed the rest of the dessert. Layla was on the verge of telling him that she had to go and finish some homework, not caring whether he believed her or not, when he clapped his hands and laughed.

"Oh-h-h! I know exactly how to cheer you up, man!"

"I doubt it," she said under her breath. What was he going to suggest, that they find some kittens to kick or something?

Speed jerked his thumb to the window. "Look who it is, our favourite supervillain's son."

Lash was looking at the window display of The Vinyl Frontier (God, what humourless goon came up with these poorly-punned shop names, Layla asked herself), the music store across the way from Sundae Best. Before Layla could even blink, Lash had fallen to the ground, clutching his shin and Speed had plonked Warren's backpack onto the table back in the ice cream parlour. He wasn't even out of breath.

"Speed!" Layla hissed. "We're not supposed to use our powers outside of school!"

"Duh! Like when has that stopped you before?"

"Someone might see you!"

"Come on, Lash!" Speed said, throwing her Warren's bag. "This'll be fun. I promise."

Anyone other than Lash might have wondered what had just happened. One second, he was looking through a shop window, the next he was sprawled on the ground, a sharp pain throbbing through his left leg and the weight of his backpack absent from his shoulder. It had all the trademarks of a Speed attack – confusing, painful and, needless to say, quick. Lash got up and looked around in trepidation. He really did not want to see Speed while he was in this body.

Something heavy slammed against Lash's ribs and he was knocked back into a concrete pillar, his assailant was an indistinct blur. Oh yeah, it was Speed, alright. As Lash staggered forward, there was another rapid blur of movement and a sudden shooting pain in his right shin. He stumbled to his knees, gasping.

"Why hello there, Peace! Missing something?"

Speed dangled Warren's backpack in front of Lash, whipping it back as Lash lunged for it and hurling it at Layla. Layla, who was still having co-ordination problems in Lash's body, missed, forcing Speed to race over to it and pick it up before Lash got there. He shot Layla a dirty look before continuing his torment of Lash.

"That's rather rude, Peace. You know, its common courtesy to say 'please' if you want something."

Layla knew this was poetic justice. Lash deserved to find out what he had put so many people through, what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such victimisation. But as she looked at the bewilderment and pain on his face, she knew she couldn't allow it. She had a conscience, dammit!

"Speed, just give him his bag back and leave him alone!" she said, snatching the backpack from his grasp and tossing it to Lash.

Speed looked disgusted. "Man, what is with you?"

Lash felt torn. He didn't exactly want to be Speed's new punchbag, but then he didn't want Layla to wreck his friendship with Speed either. He could see that Speed was already starting to think he was being weak.

Suddenly, something red, white, blue and very, very, angry hurtled towards Speed, knocking the breath out of him and sending him flying. Will had always had a bit of a saviour complex, Layla observed dryly, though Warren wasn't exactly typical damsel-in-distress material. Speed panted as he got up.

Will helped Lash to his feet and stood between him and Speed. "You touch him again and, so help me, I'll crush every bone in your body." His voice was quiet, dangerous. Beads of sweat had already started to glisten on Speed's brow.

"Come on, Warren," Will said gently, putting his hand on Lash's shoulder. "I thought we were doing some training for the competition tonight." Lash nodded silently and they made their way out of the mall together.

Layla was more than a tad perplexed by Will's reaction. Why was he being so ultra-protective of Warren? It wasn't like he was some delicate flower. This was _Warren Peace_ for crying out loud!

* * *

"Well, well, well. So glad you could join us, Layla." 

A petite woman in a dark orange kaftan with Layla's keen brown eyes and a mane of brown curls stood before Warren with her arms crossed. Strings of beads hung around her neck and several silver bangles adorned her wrists. Mrs Williams, Warren deduced. Warren saw instantly where Layla had gotten her crazy hair and dress sense. Mr Williams stood next to his wife, his expression indecipherable. Mrs Williams, on the other hand, clearly looked livid.

Warren had been dreading this. It was bad enough sitting in the detention room with Lash for an hour after school. Luckily, that oddball sophomore who ate paper was also in detention, which meant that Lash couldn't say anything incriminating. To delay the showdown at the Williamses, Warren had spent some time in the library afterwards, borrowing unnecessary books, knowing he wasn't doing himself any favours by trying to put this off.

"Sorry I'm late, but I had…"

"Detention," Layla's mother interrupted him. "Yes, Principal Powers has informed us that you have had a very interesting day."

Warren gulped. It had been a while since he had got such a speaking to for getting in trouble at school. Of course his mom didn't approve when he landed himself in detention, but lately it was if she couldn't even muster the energy to tell him how disappointed she was, let alone get angry with him.

"I walk through the door after being away for two weeks and the first thing I hear is that you have been abusing your powers, attacking people and damaging school property!" The bangles jingled on Mrs Williams' wrists as she gesticulated at Warren.

"I'm sorry…" began Warren, but Mrs Williams cut him off again.

"I just cannot believe this, Layla!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Didn't we raise you better than this? I thought we taught you to use words rather than force unless there was no other choice?"

"I really am sorry, I just lost control, I didn't mean for it to happen," Warren explained truthfully, but this did not seem to pacify Mrs Williams, who was still flushed with anger.

"Young lady," she said, wagging a finger at Warren for emphasis. "You are grounded and I don't need to tell you how disappointed we are!"

Warren trudged up to Layla's room. The sight he encountered on entering made him draw a sharp intake of breath. Most of Layla's plants seemed a little worse for wear, they were either an unhealthy brown colour, generally wilting or, in some cases, both.

This is why I don't keep plants, he thought grimly, because I forget to water the damn things.

Warren located a watering can and tried his best to rectify the damage, but suspected it may be too little too late for some. He attempted drawing on the power he used earlier to revive one of Layla's orchids. Nothing. Warren sighed. It figured. Seemed like he could only use Layla's chlorokinesis to either make plants die or to assault people.

Laughter drifted through Layla's open window. He looked out into the darkening dusk and could just make out Will and Lash chatting at Will's back door. It was strange, Warren felt like a spectator of his own life. Warren guessed that they must have been practising for the Save the Citizen tryouts. Will had that hyper perkiness about him that he usually did after powering up and training.

Lash grabbed Will in a jokey headlock and Will flung him off easily, sending him smashing into the garbage cans. Will helped him up, apologising, as usual forgetting how powerful he could be. Warren could only hear snatches of their conversation.

"You know, it's gonna take a lot more than that to cause me damage, Stronghold."

"Sorry, sometimes I forget what a big, scary badass you are!" Will laughed as Lash hit his shoulder playfully.

Warren's hands balled into fists. Really, was it necessary for Lash to be that…_ tactile_?

Will seemed to be inviting him in as he opened the door. Warm, orange light spilled out into the Stronghold's backyard, clearly illuminating the faces of the two teenage boys. Warren could hear Mrs Stronghold's muffled voice greeting them as Will entered. Lash turned and looked up at Layla's window before he went in, giving Warren a smile and a cheery wave.

Warren didn't know what Lash was playing at, but he didn't like it. Not one bit.

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A/N

The song that made Layla cry is _Goodbye My Lover_ by James Blunt, and is quite possibly the most depressing thing you can listen to when you've been dumped by someone you've known for years and regard as your best friend. _Edit 22.01.07: Lyrics from this chapter snipped to make it compliant with ffnet_ _rules._

As always, thanks for the reviews boys and girls (I know at least one boy is reading this – thanks for your lovely PM, Adam). Keep 'em coming – my motivation/inspiration is dependent on feedback! And to answer Tigitiki's question: no, he isn't, but there is a bit of angst in his past which will be revealed either next chap or the one after…

**_AzulTigress_**


	11. Discoveries

_Chapter 11: Discoveries_

Two pairs of eyes were determinedly fixed on the television set, the sole source of light in Will's bedroom. Will sat crossed-legged on his bed, frowning slightly, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he tapped his Xbox controller furiously. Lash lounged on a beanbag at the floor, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Lash wasn't enjoying this. No way. Will Stronghold was the most annoying person he had ever had the misfortune to encounter. He babbled endlessly about all sorts of crap. Or monologued to be precise, either not knowing or not caring that Lash wasn't being particularly loquacious. And he had far too much enthusiasm than could be considered healthy for a normal human being.

The sounds of screeching tyres and revving engines filled the room as Will and Lash continued to play the game. Lash tried to focus on the images that flickered on the screen to keep himself from thinking about the previous events of that evening. Meeting up with Speed at the mall had unsettled him more than he cared to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind. Bizarrely, he had actually been pleased when Stronghold showed up. But then, the other options were either for him to fight Speed as Warren, or for Layla to step in and for Lash to lose Speed's respect.

Even more bizarrely, he didn't hate practising with Will for the Save the Citizen tryouts as much as he assumed he would. Lash was sick with envy at Coach Boomer's blatant favouritism by allowing Warren and Will private access to the Holo-Room, but even he had to reluctantly acknowledge that Will was a skilled partner who displayed a surprising amount of foresight as well as athleticism. And messing around in the Holo-Room was pretty damn cool. Lash had never experienced anything like it.

The Holo-Room was Mr Medulla's _tour de force_, designed to test and train the students' powers via a complex series of sophisticated holographic scenarios. Boomer was right, the international Save the Citizen simulations were really tough. Unlike the ordinary high school version, all contestants entered as heroes and fought against such obstacles such as multiple villain teams and varying terrains and weather conditions. Sometimes there was more than one citizen, and they weren't always easy to find.

There were still some glitches in the system, however, which meant that Medulla was reluctant to unveil the Holo-Room officially as yet – on the program that was supposed to feature a battle against the quintessential hero foe, the giant robot, Will and Lash instead found themselves pitted against a giant rabbit. Which, admittedly, was pretty scary in its own way, being in possession of axe-sharp, door-sized incisors.

Lash wasn't really sure why he accepted Will's offer of having dinner at his place after practice. Although it did sound marginally more appealing than spending time with Mrs Peace, who was still doing her night of the living dead routine and who hadn't left the apartment or changed out of her dressing gown since yesterday morning.

Weirdly, the Stongholds actually seemed to _like_ each other. Their good-natured banter at the dinner table was clear evidence of that. Mealtimes at the Langford house were usually quite bleak, silent affairs, even if the food was impeccable. This realisation made Lash uneasy. He wasn't sure why it should. It wasn't his fault his dad was such an embarrassment. If he was more than a damn sidekick, maybe things would've been different… That last thought made him feel even more uncomfortable for some reason.

"How can you actually be winning?" Will demanded through clenched teeth, snapping Lash out of his thoughts. "You never play on this! You usually say something like, 'video games cause neurological inertia, give me a good Camus any day'."

Lash's brow wrinkled. What was a camoo? Some sort of gay slang? He smiled at his little joke. Peace was so lame. He thought of the look Warren had given him just before he went into Will's house and his smirk widened.

"Afraid of a little competition, Stronghold?" he asked, chuckling when he beat Will in yet another race.

"Aww, man!" said Will as he threw his controller to the floor in frustration. The plastic casing instantly cracked and shattered.

"Damn it!"

Josie Stronghold entered the bedroom carrying a large bowl of cheesy nachos and a couple of glasses of coke. The ice clinked against the glasses as she set them down on Will's desk.

"William," she chided, picking up the remains of the controller. "You ought to learn to control that temper, these things don't grow on trees, you know."

Will looked at his mother with a mock-pout.

"Ask Dad how many phones he pulverised this morning when the bank kept putting him on hold and he had to repeat his name, date of birth and account number to about ten different people."

The corners of Mrs Stronghold's mouth twitched.

"It's taken years of intense training to get your father to become the paradigm of self-restraint he is today, but he has his lapses." She pinched Will's cheek. "But I expect better from you!"

Lash tore his eyes away from the game to watch Mrs Stronghold leave the room. For an older woman, she actually looked pretty good. She was currently in her real estate guise, in a fitted pencil-skirt and satin blouse, her hair swept up in an elegant chignon.

"Stronghold, your mom is a fox."

Will spluttered a mouthful of coke onto his bedroom carpet.

"_What?_"

"Yeah, especially in her Jetstream costume," Lash continued wistfully.

"Dude, do _not_ talk about my mom like that. Ever."

Lash laughed. "Do you think she'd put on her cape if I asked her nicely? Or maybe I should ask for a signed photo…"

"Warren! That's just gross! You're sick, you know that?"

Lash continued to snort with laughter. The look on Stronghold's face was priceless.

"Seriously though, you carry on like that and you know I won't hesitate to punch you through a couple of walls," Will said, glaring in the semi-darkness.

"Heh. Temper, temper. What did your mom just tell you about self-control, William? Maybe I just bring out the worst in you."

"Maybe. Though it's not just me that you seem to be bringing the worst out of lately."

Lash looked at Will blankly and crunched on a nacho.

"Come on, Warren, how long are we going to dodge the elephant in the room? Your run-in with Layla? What was that all about?" Will asked, getting up from his bed to switch on a lamp and turn off the television.

Lash shrugged indolently. "I dunno. She's a chick. Who knows why women do what they do?"

"But… It doesn't make sense!" Will persisted, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. "Layla can't even swat flies without spiralling into major guiltage. Why would she attack you?"

Lash looked away from Will's accusing eyes and spotted the calendar on Will's wall. Stronghold seemed to have some obsessive compulsive thing about crossing the dates off… God, was it really tomorrow? He couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten. Lash dropped a nacho back into the bowl. He suddenly felt queasy. What could he do while he was like this, while he was stuck in this body? There was a horrible tight feeling coiling up in his stomach.

Lash found Stronghold wasn't as dense as he looked; he seemed to notice that something was amiss.

"Warren," Will's tone had immediately changed from irritation to worry. "Are you OK?"

He wasn't going to let this get to him. Not here, not now.

"I'm fine."

"God, Warren," said Will, his voice edged with exasperation. "It wouldn't kill you to really _talk_ to me once in a while. I'm supposed to be your friend. You can tell me anything." He thought for a moment. "I don't know how great my advice would be, but sometimes it just helps to talk things through."

Stronghold had an earnest look on his face. In all their years as friends, Speed never asked Lash how he was or looked at him like that. But Lash didn't expect him to. Guys didn't discuss this stuff. Talking about something wasn't going to make it any better. And if he was going to spill to someone, it sure as hell wasn't gonna be to Stronghold.

"Stronghold, you're an idiot."

Will crossed his arms against his chest. "Don't think you can evade the issue by insulting me."

No, I can do that by leaving, Lash thought, heaving himself to his feet and slipping on Warren's leather jacket.

"You're going?"

"No, I just wanted to wear my coat," Lash replied scathingly. "Yes, of course I'm going, Stronghold."

"Oh," said Will. He looked a little crestfallen. "Um, are we practising again tomorrow?"

Lash's face darkened. "No," he said and left without any further explanation.

* * *

Warren found himself pacing around Layla's room. What was Lash doing? As soon as he got his body back, he was going to _roast _the bastard. Warren went to Layla's window when he heard the Strongholds' back door click shut and saw Lash stalk away into the night. He looked far from happy. Warren curled up on Layla's window seat and pushed his head against the glass, watching his breath mist the windowpane. He desperately needed to see Will; he had to find out what poisonous seeds Lash had been planting.

After some time, Warren heard some more movement outside. He craned his neck and could just about make out Will climbing out of his bedroom window and lying down on the roof. Warren shook his head. Sometimes Stronghold did the weirdest things, what was he going to do, sleep out there? For a long while, Warren continued to gaze into the darkness. He wanted to speak to Will, but he was supposed to be grounded. He didn't fancy facing Mrs Williams' wrath a second time.

Warren noticed a conveniently placed birch tree next to Will's window.

What the hell, he thought. I just better not get caught.

As is usually the case, the idea itself was infinitely simpler than the execution of it. Warren had somehow managed to clamber out of Layla's window without attracting attention, but had stumbled at the hurdle of trying to control the birch tree. He knew he could use Layla's chlorokinesis to a high level, the fight with Lash was proof of that. Warren cleared his mind and concentrated, resting his hand on the trunk. He could sense the sap pumping slowly beneath the bark, the roots drinking from deep within the soil.

Plants seemed even more sluggish at night, which made this all the more difficult. Warren found himself missing his fire, which was a little ironic considering all the years he hated being a pyro when he was a kid, initially because he was scared of hurting someone when he lost control, later because the flames clearly marked him as Barron Battle's son.

He could feel the tree steadily growing beneath his tingling fingertips. With a colossal effort, he made the birch lower a thick branch and lift him off the ground. But he still couldn't reach the section of roof outside Will's window. Warren wondered if Stronghold had fallen asleep, he wasn't even stirring.

The gap wasn't that wide, Warren thought. He could jump for it… No, maybe not. As Warren dithered on the branch, the tree began shrinking back to its normal size. The branch started to bend under Warren's weight and he lost his balance, his foot scrambling for purchase on the smooth bark and failing. He plunged backward, a gasp barely leaving his lips, when he felt solid arms wrapping around him. Will's arms. They were hovering in mid-air. Will was contradictory like that. He could still be a klutz with two left feet at times, but when it really counted, when he wasn't even thinking about it, Will could pull off these feats of brilliance. Saving Ethan was a case in point.

Warren revelled in the feel of Will's body pressed against his, the sensation of hard muscle beneath Will's t-shirt. He knew he must have had it bad when Will delicately lowered him on the roof tiles and he actually physically _ached_ to have his arms around him again.

"Layla, what are you doing sneaking around?"

"Er, I've been grounded," Warren explained sheepishly.

Will's eyes widened. "I heard your mom's back from Mexico. She's going to freak if she finds out about this."

Warren liked Layla. He had never told her, and probably never would, but he would always be grateful to her for asking him to homecoming last year, it had been the catalyst that had transformed his life and had actually made high school bearable. Warren didn't want to get her into even more trouble. It was all Lash's fault, he thought, knowing how childish it was to think like this. He had to accept some responsibility for his actions.

Will sighed heavily, hugging his knees as he sat on the roof. "But I'm glad you're here. I need to know… Is… Is there something going on between you and Warren?"

There was something odd about the way Will said it. Was that a trace of jealousy? Was Will having second thoughts about breaking up with Layla?

Warren knew that if he was silent for long enough, Will's confessional tendencies would kick in and he would soon find out what was bothering him.

As predicted, Will sighed again and carried on. "I know your love life is none of my business. It's just… I mean… Thing is…"

For chrissakes, Stronghold, Warren inwardly screamed, just spit it out!

"Warren's not… I mean, why would you go for Warren?" Will frowned.

It was as if Warren felt the full force of Will driving his fist into his stomach. Now I get to find out what Will really thinks of me, he thought, and clearly the answer is not much.

"You don't think he's good enough for me?" he asked quietly.

It was happening again. Bianca had been one thing, but if Will felt the same… Had he been lying every time he told Warren he had nothing to be ashamed about?

"Layla," Will said sharply. "Now I _know_ you have turned completely insane! That is not it at all. What I meant was that you and Warren aren't exactly compatible."

Warren felt himself slump slightly with relief.

"There's nothing going on between me and Warren, Will."

Will shook his head and tutted.

"I'm not totally clueless, despite what you and Warren might think." He paused. "OK, so maybe I can be a little on the clueless side at times, but I'm not stupid enough to be blind to the fact that my two best friends are keeping things from me."

Warren couldn't blame Will for getting worked up about this. Of course Will wasn't stupid, of course he knew something wasn't right. But he couldn't tell him. Medulla had made sure of that...

"There's nothing going on, Will," Warren repeated, hating himself for lying, and hating the fresh look of hurt that flashed on Will's face.

"Fine. Whatever. Goodnight."

Warren swore softly in Chinese as Will retreated to his bedroom. Were any of them going to have any friends left by the time they got their bodies back?

* * *

Lash didn't show up at Sky High the next day. Warren felt as if Will was holding him personally responsible, he barely spoke to him all day. And Magenta was being unusually icy towards him. It was Layla's first day in hero classes and Warren guessed that Maj thought she was being a sell-out. It was left to Zach to act as mediator and to keep the conversation going when they were all together, but by the end of the day, even he began to crumple under all of the tensions simmering among the group.

Fortunately for Warren, Layla was still unaware of the sudden change in her curriculum, but she had noticed Lash's absence. She wondered if it had something to do with Mr Langford's mysterious instructions to meet him at the Maxville General Hospital after school. He seemed particularly tense that morning. If only Lash had told her what was going on with his family. She just didn't know what to expect next, and it was obvious that today was supposed to be important for some reason.

Unknown to Layla as she and Mr Langford made their way through the euphemistically titled Special Wing of the Maxville General, Warren and Will had raced through those very same twisty, sterile corridors only a few days earlier. Layla felt herself grow increasingly edgy as they entered the Long-Term Unit, where the nurses seemed to be expecting them. What was going on?

Finally, they stopped at a door near the back of the ward. As soon as Mr Langford opened it, Layla was hit by the unmistakable sweet perfume of lilies. Mr Langford stepped into the room first and Layla walked into his back when he stopped suddenly at the doorway.

"You?" Layla could hear the anger bubbling in Mr Langford's voice. "What are you…?"

Layla peered over his shoulder. Lash was sitting at the bedside of a very still, dark-haired woman. His face was pale and drawn and there was something strange about his eyes. It was almost as if they were pleading with her.

"Uh... Oh hi, Warren!" she said brightly, hoping that she sounded as if she had been expecting him. She looked at Mr Langford and rubbed the bridge of her nose nervously. "Dad… um… I asked La-Warren to meet me here because... um… we're… going to the library to… um… study. Yeah… um… we're working on a project together at school."

Lash tried not to roll his eyes. Whatever Layla's talents were, deception was not one of them.

Mr Langford frowned as he looked uncertainly between Lash and Layla. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment a nurse walked in from behind Layla.

"Evening, Mr Langford," she smiled. "Dr Aston has asked to have a quick word with you."

Layla closed the door behind Mr Langford and sat next to Lash. So, Mrs Langford hadn't been killed… She wasn't on a ventilator, but she seemed to be in some sort of coma, her dark eyes opened from time to time, but they were glassy and unseeing. She bore little resemblance to the strikingly poised woman in the painting hanging in the Langford's hallway. With her pallid, papery skin she reminded Layla of an etiolated plant, slowly fading away.

Along with a birthday card, there was a large bouquet of calla lilies on her bedside table. Layla could never understand why people liked cut flowers as she found the mutilated stalks macabre. Flowers weren't decorations, they were living creatures. But these lilies were beautiful, with their milky white petals and long, graceful stems. Beautiful, but sad.

"The flowers are gorgeous," she said, more for something to say than anything else.

Lash smiled fondly as he looked at his mother.

"Yeah, Mom loved lilies. She used to grow a whole heap in the garden…" he stopped and a guarded expression clouded his eyes. It was a look that wasn't entirely out of place on Warren's face.

Layla saw that there was an envelope in between the flowers and the card. Lash had written his mother a letter, knowing that she wouldn't be able to read it. This was all just too awful for words. This had to be the reason Mr Langford went inactive and was now working in the comparatively tame world of finance. Did he feel guilty that his wife had been so badly injured in their last battle together? How must Lash feel, being trapped in a limbo of grief, having lost his mother, but for her to still be alive?

"Lash, I'm so sorry," she said softly, squeezing his shoulder.

Lash looked at Layla and saw his own face, worried and sincere. He pulled away from her hand quickly.

"Yeah, so now you know everything about me. Happy?"

"Of course not," said Layla reasonably. "I can't imagine how this must be for you…"

"You're right, you can't imagine." Lash's words lacked any real bite, he just sounded tired.

The following silence was punctured by a definite rumble from Lash's stomach. Layla couldn't stop herself. Lash had some worrying vendetta against Will, he was spiteful and cruel to sidekicks and he must've done something to Warren yesterday to make him go ballistic like that, with the end result of Layla getting detention for the first time, but this was painful. It just wasn't in her nature to feel animosity towards someone who was suffering like this.

"Look, if you're hungry, there's a great little diner a couple of streets away from my house that does fabulous raspberry and lemon muffins." At the mention of muffins, Lash's stomach gave a louder growl. He hadn't eaten all day. He sighed. It sounded tempting, even if it meant he had to associate with one of Stronghold's cronies…

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A/N

Ah, thank you ladies and gents for your lovely, shiny reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy and encourage me to keep on writing. Any comments at all are always most welcome.

The end is getting close now, I'd say there's probably two chaps at most left, so watch this space…

_**AzulTigress**_


	12. Breaking Point

_Chapter 12: Breaking Point_

The sun was starting to set as Lash and Layla walked through the picturesque suburbs of Maxville. Large houses with picket fences and neatly trimmed lawns stretched out ad infinitum. It was the domain of white-collar professionals, very much like where Lash himself lived. Layla waved enthusiastically at an elderly lady who was watering her garden and Lash nudged her sharply in the ribs. The old lady gave them both a dubious look before turning back into her house.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Layla complained.

Lash glowered at her. "This may have escaped your notice, hippie, but I don't think your neighbours are going to recognise you right now."

"Jeez, I was only being friendly…" Layla said huffily as she rubbed her side.

A creature resembling a moth-eaten ginger rug on four spindly legs emerged from a carefully clipped privet hedge and began to sinuously wind itself around Layla's ankles.

"Ugh!" Lash cried out in disgust. "What the hell is that thing?"

Layla gave a squeal of joy. "Horace! Do you recognise me?"

She lifted up the ginger tom, which was either purring or dying of emphysema. Lash found it difficult to tell.

"Oh, Horace!" Layla said, cuddling the cat close. "I've missed you too!"

"Don't put it near my face!" Lash warned. "Don't _kiss_ it!"

Layla ignored Lash's pleas and planted a kiss on the tomcat's patchy head.

"Oh great, well thanks a lot," he grumbled. "I've probably contracted some hideous cat-related illness now."

Layla stroked Horace's ears and the horrible noise he was making increased in volume.

"I guess you're more of a dog fan, eh?"

"What's not to love about cats? They cough up rank hairballs and ignore you unless they want feeding. And that one just looks diseased."

Layla tutted and Lash rolled his eyes. _Why do I get the feeling that she's gonna say something about how she likes all animals?_

"All animals deserve equal respect. And just because Horace isn't the prettiest kitty in the world doesn't make him any less special."

"Oh, wouldn't it just be so _nice_ if everyone was just _nice_ to one another?" Lash said in a singsong voice.

"Well, yeah. It would be," she said seriously. She put Horace down on the sidewalk, patting him before he ambled off happily down the street.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're retch-makingly sweet?" asked Lash nastily as they continued to walk. "I mean, I can actually feel my teeth dissolving as we speak. It's just sickening."

Layla simply smiled an infuriating smile. "Oh yeah, Maj tells me that all the time."

The girl was surprisingly thicker-skinned than Peace when it came to taking insults, Lash thought. Man, she was really _irritating_. Perpetually cheerful and ever so _nice_. She was probably even more annoying than Stronghold, if such a thing could be possible.

As they turned a corner, they bumped into a figure who was familiar to both of them - a short boy whose posture was being hampered by the voluminous books he was carrying under his left arm.

"Ethan!" Layla beamed brightly. "You're out of hospital! How are you?"

Ethan looked at Layla warily, but seemed to relax a little when he saw Lash standing next to her. He still didn't seem quite himself, Layla thought, but at least he was up and about, even if he was a little on the jittery side. Then she appreciated how weird this must have seemed to him, seeing Warren and Lash together with the latter enquiring about his health.

Ethan narrowed his eyes from behind his thick glasses. "Fine. No thanks to you and Speed that is." He turned to Lash and added in a friendlier manner, "How's things, Warren?

"Um, you know. Same old stuff… um…" Lash scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. This unexpected encounter was making him feel strangely guilty. "So… when are you coming back to school?"

Ethan sighed. "The doctors say I should be OK next week. Man, I am going up the wall without schoolwork! I asked Maj to bring me her notes on all the things I've been missing, but she refused. Said it was one of the perks of having a sicknote. I didn't even bother asking Zach."

Layla laughed. "Yeah, when he concentrates long enough to stop doodling in the margins, his writing's like a conga-line of drunken spiders."

Ethan arched an eyebrow at this remark.

"Uh… so I've heard."

It took an immense amount of willpower to stop Lash hitting his face with the palm of his hand. The girl was a dreadful liar.

"What's going on," Ethan said, scrutinizing Layla and Lash sceptically. "Since when did you two start hanging out?"

"We're working on a Hero Studies project together," Lash replied smoothly.

"Rrright…"

Layla frowned. Ethan was smart. The only other person at Sky High with a higher IQ was Joey Mazzitelli, the creepy psychic kid who was rumoured to have two brains. But it didn't need a Mad Genius to figure out that there was something seriously wrong with this picture. Layla quickly thought up a diversion to throw Ethan off the scent.

"Er… Ethan, I want to apologise for what happened to you."

"What?" Ethan and Lash said in unison. Too late, Layla realised that Lash apologising may not quite have the desired effect of diminishing Ethan's suspicions, but decided that now she had set this ball in motion, it was probably best to plough ahead regardless.

"Yeah… I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand. You could have been seriously injured. I'm sorry." Layla held out her hand to Ethan.

Lash inwardly fumed. That interfering… How dare she apologise on his behalf? OK, so maybe she was right. He was sorry. He didn't mean for Ethan to get really hurt. But he would never _say_ it!

Ethan stared at Layla's proffered hand, clearly wondering if it was some sort of trick. After a minute or so, he tentatively shook it.

"OK, apology accepted."

When Ethan had said goodbye to Warren and disappeared out of sight, Lash made a noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a growl.

"I _cannot_ believe you just did that!"

"What?" Layla smiled innocently.

"Apologise for me!"

"Oh, do you really expect me to believe that you wanted Ethan to die? You're a complete and utter dick, Lash, but you're not pure, unadulterated evil! So, my guess is that you _do_ feel at least a degree of remorse for the incident."

Lash didn't respond. It was a peculiar feeling, wanting to smack the superior grin off his own face.

"Admit it, it felt good to apologise."

"Shut up."

"Ooh, witty comeback. Move away from the dark side, Lash. It's not too late, you know."

Layla was still smiling smugly and Lash was still sulking when they entered the bustling diner. Layla got an apple juice and a muffin, Lash ordered a steak burger with fries, partly because he liked steak and he was ravenous, but mostly to piss Layla off. With no small amount of satisfaction, he noted how she flinched when he requested it rare. As he tucked into the burger, he hoped that she would make a comment about animal cruelty so he could say something derogatory about vegetarianism. But she avoided that conversation topic.

"So, how are you finding it as Warren Peace?" Layla asked, looking Lash in the eye, resolutely ignoring the offending meat-based snack.

Lash decided not to tell her about how he was planning to amuse himself with Warren and Layla's ex.

"Unfortunately, it involves socialising regularly with Stronghold and Peace's mom is just plain odd."

"How do you mean?"

As Lash explained Mrs Peace's unusual behaviour, he found that Layla Williams was a good listener. This was a rarer talent than it may initially first sound. In general conversation, most people don't actually listen to what the other person is saying; they're too busy thinking about what they're going to say next. But Layla _really _listened. She made you feel like you were one of the most interesting people she had ever spoken to.

Layla rubbed her chin pensively. "Hm. It sounds like Mrs Peace is depressed."

"Well thanks for that insight, Captain Obvious."

"I don't mean depressed in the sense of 'being a little sad'," she hit back, a little impatiently. "I mean full-on clinical depression. It's a medical condition."

"I'm not surprised, though," Layla continued after taking a sip of apple juice. "She's been through a lot. It's got to be pretty tough bringing up a kid by yourself at the best of times. Wondering if you're making the right decisions, having no-one to support you when things get hard, trying to compensate for the missing parent…"

Lash sighed and stabbed his fries with a fork. Clearly she was trying to make a point about him and his dad. Why didn't she just come out and say it?

"…But when you throw in the stigma of being married to a villain into the mix…" Layla absent-mindedly bit a fingernail, then remembered it was Lash's nail she was nibbling and quickly stopped.

"I wonder if Warren's told her that she needs to see a doctor?" she said quietly, half to herself. "He doesn't talk about his mom. Maybe Will knows…"

"As interesting as this is," Lash interrupted. "You seem to forget that I don't actually care."

Layla shook her head disapprovingly at him. "We can only be there for people that need us, Lash. Sometimes it's enough that people know they're not alone."

Again, why did Lash sense that Layla wasn't just referring to Warren's mother?

"You know, if the hero thing doesn't work out for you, maybe you should go for a career in daytime chat shows. Or write cheesy self-help books."

"Whatever," Layla said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But you know deep down that I'm right."

A blonde girl wearing a tartan miniskirt that accentuated her long, lithe legs sauntered over to them. Layla thought she actually heard Lash's jaw thud onto the table.

"Sorry to butt in, boys, but me and my friend Elissa over there…" she said as she pointed to another blonde a couple of tables away, who was giggling uncontrollably "…think that you are, like, both so totally hott." Layla wondered how she managed to verbalise the superfluous 't' in 'hott'. "And Elissa was like, 'Ohmigod, Morgan, you should totally go over and get their numbers and stuff,' so here I, like, am."

She smiled and tossed her platinum locks coquettishly. Then tried to subtly remove the strands of hair that had got stuck to her heavily glossed lips.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Layla frostily. "But I'm afraid I don't know what my number, _like_, is."

The girl's eyes widened in surprise. Layla guessed that guys didn't turn down her obvious charms very often.

"Hmph," she snorted, haughtily throwing her head back. "Well, it's your loss."

"It sure is," muttered Lash longingly as the two blondes cast them disappointed glances before flouncing out of the diner.

"Bimbos," Layla said under her breath as she shook her head.

"You just didn't like them 'cause they're pretty."

"No, I didn't like them because, y'know, they're, like, so totally, like, moronic bimbos," said Layla, affecting an airhead tone. "I mean, do you have a problem with intelligent women or something?"

"No… if they're hot. It's just the ugly ones I have a problem with."

"How refreshingly superficial of you."

"You better get used to all this attention from the lay-deez," Lash said as he flashed a movie-star smile at a waitress clearing the table next to them, who promptly turned bright red and dropped her tray. "They just can't get enough of Lash Langford."

One of Warren's more endearing traits was that he had no idea how devastatingly gorgeous he was, Layla thought. Whereas Lash's over-inflated ego was the size of Alaska. It was deeply unattractive.

"Oh, really? Funny, because that's the first time I've been hit on while I've been in your body… Not that I'm complaining, mind you," she added hurriedly.

"How do you know those two were bimbos anyway?" asked Lash, raising an eyebrow.

Layla ignored him and bit into her muffin.

"Seems like Little Miss Perfect's making assumptions about people she doesn't even know."

Layla wasn't sure what was more annoying; Lash's full of himself attitude or the fact that he was right. She was being a hypocrite. But she was damned if she was going to tell him that.

"Shut up."

Lash laughed. "Who's dishing out the witty comebacks now?"

* * *

Warren's apartment was located in one of the less salubrious areas of the city. After a week of living in the neighbourhood, Lash had grown used to the night-time cacophony of sirens, barking dogs, alarms and raised voices, hardly noticing them as he made his way back to the apartment. 

It was weird; today of all days was the first time he'd laughed properly since the mindswap. His mom's birthday was always a difficult time. He hated going to the hospital, seeing her lying there, not quite dead but not quite alive. And he hated himself for feeling that way.

Had it really been nine years ago when the Delta Division fought against Maximum Kaos? When his mother sustained the head injury that put her in what the doctors said was a persistent vegetative state? He'd never forget seeing her in the hospital for the first time. How he asked his dad when she was going to wake up. How his mom had gasped and opened her eyes, Mr Langford explaining to his eight-year-old son that this didn't mean she was really awake. That she would never really wake up again. How he, Stewart and his dad sat around his mom's bed silently, not crying, not speaking. Some things were beyond words, beyond tears.

_Nine years_, Lash thought as he went up the stairs in Warren's apartment block. He groaned as he accidentally trod on a cockroach, stopping briefly to scrape the sole of his boot on the side of a step. _Nine years_… That meant that he'd known his mom longer like this than when she was normal. He shook his head and tangled his fingers through Warren's long hair. It never helped to think like this. It was easier to dismiss it, to carry on. What else could he do? He couldn't change anything. But somehow it did make him feel a little better that someone else knew the truth. And as much as it pained him to concede it, maybe Layla was right, maybe he did give his dad too hard a time. After all, what had happened wasn't his fault.

He opened the front door to Warren's apartment and flicked on the light, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw that Mrs Peace was sitting at the dining table. She had her back to Lash and didn't look up or make a sound. Had she been sitting there in the dark? Weird. Lash walked over to her. She was staring impassively at a small bottle in her hand. Her head shot up at Lash's approach, as if she had only just realised he had entered the room. The bottle fell from her fingers, rattling as it rolled across the tabletop and spun onto the frayed carpet.

"Warren…" she breathed, her eyes large and shining. "This isn't… I wasn't…"

Lash's brows knitted. What was she doing? No…

"What…" Lash couldn't finish the sentence. He was way out of his depth here. As much as he disliked Warren, he did not want to get involved in this.

"Oh God, I promise you I wouldn't have actually… I just… Sometimes, I just don't know what to do, Warren… I just don't know…" Mrs Peace's voice cracked. She hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. As she cried bitter, racking sobs, Lash stood there at a complete loss as to what to say and do next. With no other ideas forthcoming, he did the only thing he could think of. He put an arm around Mrs Peace's shoulders, surprised how small and fragile she felt under Warren's muscular frame.

She turned her face onto his chest as she continued to cry. This carried on for several minutes. Lash could feel Warren's t-shirt growing damp with Mrs Peace's tears.

"I don't think I can cope anymore, Warren. I really don't. When your father was put in prison, I managed because I had to. You were so young and so angry. I had to be strong for you, so I just buried all of that pain and got on with things. But the fact is… even now… even though no-one else can understand this… I still love your father."

Mrs Peace's hands trembled as she plucked a tissue from a box by her elbow. Lash sat down next to her on one of the well-worn dining chairs. He had never seen someone completely breakdown before, it was unnerving.

"That's why I never divorced him, even though that made everyone even more suspicious of me."

She paused as she pressed the tissue to her streaming eyes, plainly attempting to pull herself together.

"I feel like I've failed him, Warren. Was it something I had done or didn't do that pushed him over the edge? These thoughts plague me all the time… But it seems worse at night…"

In the several days he had lived with her, Lash never heard Mrs Peace say so much at once. It was as if some sort of dam had been broken and all these pent-up words were flooding out.

"He wasn't always a monster." Mrs Peace reached for the photograph album in cherry red leather that sat at the middle of the table and leafed through the pages. She showed Lash a photo of herself and Barron Battle, a small nose poking out from under a wad of blankets in Barron Battle's arms. Mrs Peace looked exhausted as she leaned into her husband, but her smile had the radiant serenity of a new mother. Barron Battle wasn't looking at the camera; he only had eyes for the bundle he was carrying.

"When you were born, he said he was so proud he thought he would burst. I remember the first time he held you… He kept telling the nurses there was something wrong, that you wouldn't stop shaking. But when the nurses held you, you were fine. Then we realised it was your dad who was shaking."

Mrs Peace laughed at the memory. For a brief moment, it was as if a shadow had fallen from her face. She almost looked young again.

"I can still see him now. Six foot five, one of the most powerful pyrokinetics on record, but a newborn baby had reduced him to a quivering wreck."

The shadow covered Mrs Peace's face once more.

"Knowing how loving he could be, I can't believe that the man I knew has completely gone…"

Mrs Peace closed the photo album and held onto Lash's hand with small, chilly fingers. He really didn't want to be drawn into this. It was none of his business. But he didn't have much choice. He couldn't leave Mrs Peace when she was like this. She looked so vulnerable, so scared…

She gripped his hand harder as she choked back the sobs. "I feel like I've fallen into a dark hole and I can't find my way out. But what scares me the most is that I think I'm dragging you down with me. You deserve so much better than this, Warren."

Before she was overwhelmed by tears again, she managed to gulp, "I'm so sorry…"

Up until this point, Lash hadn't needed to say anything. But it was clear he had to now. Layla seemed like the sort of person that would know the right thing to say at a time like this. But what was it?

"Mom, I really think you need to see a doctor. You can get help for this… for how you're feeling."

Lash thought that Mrs Peace's tears had abated a little at that, but it wasn't quite enough.

"We'll get through this together. Remember, you're not alone. You've got me."

Lash wasn't sure where _that _came from. He gritted his teeth and hoped that cheesy hippie philosophy wasn't contagious.

"Oh sweetheart, you're right…" Mrs Peace was still crying, but now she had managed to smile. "…I'm so lucky to have you…"

* * *

Seeing Horace earlier had made Layla desperately homesick. She decided to make a little detour past her house before returning to the Langfords' after she left the diner. 

Layla pondered as she walked along the familiar streets. She had no idea about Lash's mom. That was the sort of detail they tended to skip over in the lessons at Sky High. It was all about the greater good and the glory, personal loss wasn't really examined. Typical. She had been right about that place all along, it was so _fascist_, a super-powered brainwashing facility. She was glad that she remained in the hero support track, much to Principal Powers' chagrin. It was all about choice. _Her_ choice. Oh, she had plans about how she was going to bring the whole system down. She was going to prove that there was no difference between a hero and a sidekick and show them all…

Layla noticed that her mom's car was on the driveway. She was back from Mexico already? Layla wondered how the dolphin training went. How Bonnie and her dad were. She really missed all of them. Then a sight made her stop in her tracks.

Will and Warren. They were hugging on the Williams' front door step. Warren's head was nestled against Will's chest as Will idly stroked Warren's hair – _her_ hair. It seemed to be a rather long hug. What was Warren doing?

Layla didn't get angry often, but as realisation dawned, she felt her face burning.

How could she have been so _blind_?

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A/N

Thanks for the reviews everyone!

So many questions… Will they ever get their bodies back? Who will end up with who? You'll have to read the next and final instalment to find out! As for the question re. Warren's feelings being influenced by the fact that he's in Layla's body, I will only say this – re-read the summary and the disclaimer… :)

Oh, and although Lash shows his sensitive side in this chapter, he's up to no good next time…

Stay tuned...

_**AzulTigress**_


	13. Compos Mentis

_Chapter 13: Compos Mentis_

Sidekick History was one of the more interesting hero support classes. Well, it certainly beat Motorcycle Sidecar Basics, Magenta thought, which was the lamest subject ever, even by sidekick class standards. Despite this, when the bell rang, signalling not only the end of the lesson, but the end of another school day, she eagerly leapt from her seat and quickly slung her notebook and pens into her bag, tucking the hefty required text, _Aqualad to Zook: A History of Hero Support Through the Ages, _under her arm. Zach followed suit but was stopped by Mr Boy was as he tried to leave without handing in his essay on Radon Kid.

Magenta was surprised to find a tall, skinny boy waiting outside the classroom. Lash was paler than usual and obviously agitated as picked at his striped sleeves and scanned the students filing out. He met Magenta's eyes and attempted a friendly smile.

"Magenta, where's… um… Layla?"

"Not that it has anything to do with you, Langford, but she's been transferred to hero classes," she replied, her dark eyes narrowing at him.

Lash pursed his lips together.

"I do not believe this…"

Why was Lash so bothered about Layla's upgrade to hero? Why was he even looking for Layla in the first place? Magenta wondered as she watched him walk away. She had never noticed before how ungainly he was, what a clumsy, shambling gait he had. How could this person have been one half of the duo that was undefeated at Save the Citizen before Will powered up?

Magenta glanced back inside Mr Boy's classroom.

"…so when the ink ran out on my printer, I went out to buy some more, but the store was shut, so then I tried to save the assignment onto disk, but it didn't work…"

Zach's hand gestures became increasingly emphatic as he embellished his excuse. Mr Boy stroked his moustache, looking decidedly unimpressed. Magenta groaned. Zach just didn't understand that the trick to telling a convincing lie was to keep it short and sweet. Long, laborious details screamed out as loudly as the neon Hawaiian shirt he was wearing. But then, he wasn't exactly renowned for his subtlety. And would she have him any other way? She allowed herself a small grin. Probably not.

Magenta looked back down the corridor at Lash as he battled against the exodus of students, advancing towards a girl with a tousled mane of red hair. Layla smiled at him, but as Lash had his back to Magenta, she could not see if this was returned. When he reached her, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and leaned down to her ear level. Whatever he was saying to her immediately made Layla's face drop. She seemed to be opening her mouth to respond, but Lash began dragging her away from the flow of people.

Magenta's grip on her textbook tightened. This did not look good.

* * *

The shadowy, empty gym was eerily quiet. Warren skidded along the polished, wooden floor as Layla hauled him inside, her fingers digging fiercely into his arm. 

"What the hell are you doing to me, Warren?" Layla demanded as he freed himself from her grip.

Warren licked his lips, his mouth had gone dry. "I'm sorry…"

"Some of us are actually concerned about higher things than their own selfish needs!" Layla interrupted as she gave him a hard stare. Warren was strongly reminded of Mrs Williams' reaction when she found out Layla had been fighting another student. "I was trying to make a stand and you've ruined everything!"

Neither of them heard Magenta sneak into the gym and hide behind the stands. Rodent-like stealth even in human form was one of the few advantages of being able to shapeshift into a guinea pig. Lash's voice reverberated through the gymnasium.

"And the hair… What is going on with the goddamn hair? Did it occur to you that it might be an idea to brush it once in a while?" she shouted, her eyes blazing. "As if it isn't bad enough that you're getting to see me naked everyday, but you could at least make an effort!"

Magenta struggled not to shriek out loud. Layla was seeing Lash _naked_ everyday? What the hell? And why was he giving her style advice?

"Hey!" said Warren, affronted. "I haven't been perving on you or anything. What do you take me for?"

"Hah! Well I guess that much is true." There was a nasty edge to Layla's words that made Warren flinch. Layla never spoke like this, it threw him off-balance.

"I know about you and Will," she explained, taking in his faintly bewildered expression.

Oh, no. She _knew_.

"Look, the kiss didn't mean anything," Warren said hurriedly. "It sorta… just… happened…"

"_Kiss_? You _kissed_ him?" Layla was almost screeching.

"Uhh…"

"Why didn't I see this sooner?" Layla berated herself as she pushed Lash's hair from her eyes. Warren was being attacked by guilt and fear. He really didn't want to hurt Layla, and now she knew, it was only a matter of time before Will also found out the truth.

"There's nothing to see," he said, backtracking. "Like I said, it was a mistake!"

"You're kidding yourself!"

"And you're not?" Warren retorted. As bad as he felt about upsetting Layla, her holier-than-thouness was really starting to grate on his nerves. "All this crap about you and hero classes. What's wrong with wanting to better yourself? Why can't you just admit that you're scared? Or are you just enjoying the view from your moral high horse too much?"

Layla was seething. How _dare_ he? Warren had used her to get what he wanted from Will, and now he had the audacity to question _her _motives? Layla was sweet. She was considerate, patient and understanding. But even she had her limits and the boundary of these limits, which had been put under considerable strain since Will had broken up with her, had now been stretched to well beyond breaking point. When someone like Warren snapped, it was never exactly pleasant, but it was pretty standard.

When someone like Layla snapped, it was terrifying.

A loud crack resonated through the gym as Layla's palm connected sharply with Warren's cheek, bright, red finger-marks instantly flaring up on the pale skin. Layla stretched out Lash's bendy arms, thrusting Warren into Coach Boomer's umpire chair.

Magenta jumped out from behind the stands and whacked Layla on the back of the head repeatedly with her copy of _A History of Hero Support Throughout the Ages_ until she released her hold on Warren.

"You are seriously going to regret that, elasto-turd!" she said threateningly, wrapping a protective arm around Warren's shoulders.

Magenta was surprisingly wiry. Layla clutched the back of her head, where she could feel a tender bump already starting to swell. Her eyes stung with tears. Everything was falling apart. Warren was supposed to be her friend, how could do this to her? How could he say these things? She flopped onto a seat on the stands gracelessly, unable to stop herself from crying.

"I can't take this anymore, I just can't!" she managed between sobs. "God, Maj, I'm losing it!"

Magenta gaped at the hunched figure of Lash before her. Something had really been bugging her about Layla and Warren for the last week, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Moreover, her contact with Lash, though minimal, hadn't seemed quite right either. So, maybe Layla was still getting her head together after her break up with Will. Maybe Lash was floundering without that dumbass Speed. And maybe Warren was acting all tetchy because… he was Warren?

No. There was just something very, very wrong, it was like an itch niggling the back of Magenta's mind. Shapeshifters by their very nature knew that appearances could not be trusted, and as such tended to put more faith in their instincts than in their eyes. And that conversation she had been eavesdropping on just didn't make any goddamn sense. Unless… The more she thought about it, the more the most insane explanation actually seemed like the most sane.

"No way," she said quietly, looking closely at the tall boy crying loudly before her. "Layla? Is that you?"

Layla wailed and lurched into her arms and Magenta found herself in the unlikely position of comforting a weeping 'Lash'. Magenta turned to the redheaded girl.

"_Warren_? But how did this happen?"

"It was Mr Medulla!" Layla blurted out unthinkingly, clapping a hand to her mouth in horror. Warren held his breath. They were silent for a couple of minutes as Layla tried to compose herself.

"Well, as it seems I'm done for, I may as well tell you everything…"

When Layla finished her story, she dissolved into tears again. Magenta said nothing for a short while as she processed the information.

"_Pledgerin_?" she said finally, incredulous. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me. Don't tell me you guys bought that? I'm not so hot on Mad Science, but a drug that's activated when you break a promise?" Magenta turned to Warren. "Warren, you're a science geek. Tell me, really, how plausible is that?"

Strangely, Warren hadn't given it much thought until now, he had just accepted what Medulla had said. But Magenta had a very good point.

"Now you mention it, not very."

Layla abruptly stopped crying.

"Mr Medulla _lied_ to us?" she asked, hiccupping.

"Yeah, but really think about this," Magenta said, scratching her chin. "Not only did you guys break into his lab, but you tried to steal an exam paper and you destroyed one of his precious inventions. So why haven't you been expelled, or at least been put in detention for the next decade? I'm guessing Medulla's trying to save his own ass by covering it up…"

Warren pinched the top of his nose and shut his eyes. Magenta was a sharp kid. "Experiments in mind-altering technology need official clearance from the ethics committee of the International Confederation of Metahumans," he said slowly. "If Medulla's been secretly building the mindswapper here, I don't think he has it…"

"Why the hell didn't we figure this out before?" Layla asked. She dried the tears from her face with one of her sleeves. Her look of dismay had turned to one of anger.

"Beats me," shrugged Magenta. "And I thought Will was supposed to be the stupid one."

"He isn't stupid!" Warren and Layla chorused, then glowered at each other.

"Sure he isn't," Maj chuckled.

Zach chose this moment to walk into the gym.

"Maj, there you are! We're gonna miss the bus…" His eyes fell on the hand Magenta had on Layla's arm. "What… what are you doing?"

"Brace yourself, Zachary. You are not going to believe what I'm about to tell you…"

* * *

Dunes of red sand rolled out to the horizon like waves, the sun blazing overhead in a cloudless, ultramarine sky. Lash blinked as the hot, dry wind blew grains of sand in his face. He and Will had just finished fighting against a simulated team of mecha-villains equipped with advanced weaponry in the middle of a desert sandstorm, one of the Holo-Room's higher level programs. It was a mixed result – they had saved two citizens, but the third had been blasted by the super cannon they failed to disable. 

Will rubbed his jaw after being hit in the face by some shrapnel.

"How is it that holograms can hurt?" he asked as he wiped away the patina of sweat on his brow. "Gotta be something to do with animatronics and force fields, right?"

How the hell am I supposed to know? Lash thought. "Yeah… that's right."

Will grinned widely. "See, some of that Mad Science stuff you've been teaching me _has_ been sinking in!"

Lash shook his head as he noted how pleased with himself Will looked.

"What do you want, Stronghold, a biscuit?" he asked witheringly as he brushed away the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Will frowned slightly. "Maybe we should've suited up, especially if we're going to be practising on the more difficult programs," he said. "These holograms really pack a punch, even with the safety protocols in place."

Lash made an impatient noise. Stronghold had no sense of fun at all. "Christ, quit being such a pansy. We can both take it, you know."

"I know that. It's just a little reckless…" said Will a little wearily. Something seemed to flicker in his eyes, but before Lash had time to identify what it was, Will had shouted "Watch out!" and had knocked him to the ground as a cannonball sailed past them a hair's breadth away. Another glitch in the Holo-Room. The program was supposed to stop when the time ran out, regardless of whether or not the villains were defeated.

Even in Warren's pyrokinetic body, the sand was scorching hot on Lash's back. Will's pupils were dilated, his breathing had quickened. Lash was very conscious of his sweaty body pressing against him. Lash wasn't sure why he wanted to carry on causing problems for Will. The fight had gone out of him. But this was all just too tempting.

"Well?" Lash asked, panting slightly.

"Well, what?"

"Well, are you going to stare at me like that all day, or are you going to kiss me?"

Lash wondered how on earth he managed to say that with a straight face. It was just too funny. As if Peace would ever have the balls to come out and say it like that, even though it was clear that it was exactly what he wanted. Now Stronghold knew all about the crush his best friend had on him. As Will moved forward, Lash steeled himself for the punch he was sure would follow. What happened instead was completely unanticipated…

* * *

Zach had said that Will and Lash were practising for the Save the Citizen tryouts, so the group made their way down to the sub-basement. Warren and Zach walked ahead, Warren trying to convince Zach that being stuck in a chick's body was not as great as he might expect. 

"Hey, Layla," Maj whispered. "Y'know, there's something I've always wondered about Lash. Does he stretch, I mean, _all over_?"

"Ewww! Magenta!" cried Layla, flushing beet red. "Having to perform basic functions in this body is traumatic enough without going into… more advanced areas!"

"Heheh," Magenta held up her hands. "You can't blame a girl for being curious!"

"What's so funny?" asked Zach, turning to look at them.

"Never you mind," said Magenta, patting his arm. "Just girl talk."

Warren pushed open the door to the Holo-Room's viewdeck, which Lash and Will had luckily left unlocked. At any other time, Warren would have been impressed by the extraordinary technology of the Holo-Room. The high capacity projectors that generated hyper-realistic hard-light laser constructs, the advanced graviton lenses which simulated the effects of solid surfaces and textures, the acoustic engines that produced accurate noise levels and frequencies…

But all he could see was Will straddling Lash, his hands cupping Warren's own face as he kissed him, Lash's flaming fists pushing against Will's chest, searing hand-shaped holes through Will's t-shirt. He heard Layla gasp beside him, and Magenta make a noise that sounded suspiciously like a reigned-in snigger.

But it was Zach who managed to sum up the collective feeling with a low, "Holy crapola…"

"I don't recall _that _being one of the stock sidekick catchphrases in Hero Support English…" Magenta muttered, smirking.

The words in Warren's head were even less eloquent than Zach's.

That _son of a bitch_!

* * *

The last thing Lash expected was for Will to actually kiss him. 

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!_

He had Stronghold's _tongue_ in his _mouth_!

And it was obvious that Stronghold was… enjoying this a little too much…

Lash knew that this hideous moment was going to be etched with sickening clarity on his mind for the rest of his life. It was useless trying to wrestle with Will's superstrength. He had flamed up, but this didn't seem to bother Will. Oh, God, Lash thought, maybe he thinks I'm powering up because I'm turned on!

The arid air suddenly reverted back to normal room temperature, the sand and sky replaced by a grey floor, walls and ceiling. A female voice echoed through the room.

"Take your hands off him!"

Will leapt up, aghast as he saw Warren's approach. Layla, Magenta and Zach were close behind.

"Layla! I… we…" he spluttered.

"I'm _Warren_, not Layla!"

Will's brow furrowed. "What…"

"And that's Lash, not me…"

"_What_?"

"Will, _I'm_ Layla. I've been stuck in Lash's body for the last week."

"WHAT?"

"Bleugh!" Lash wiped his mouth as he shakily got to his feet. "Ugh, God, I think I'm gonna puke!"

Will blanched. "Is this some kind of twisted, in no way at all funny joke?"

"'Fraid not, Wonder Boy," Magenta smirked.

Lash looked at Warren and Layla, then glanced over at Magenta and Zach. "So, you told them the truth and your brains didn't implode?"

"Medulla lied about the brain-puréeing thing, but I guessed anyway," Magenta replied.

"How?" Lash asked.

"Because, duh, my intellectual capacity exceeds that of an amoeba? I mean come _on_!" Magenta counted each point on her fingers. "Layla's been all surly and violent. Lash's been nice to sidekicks and is telling people to recycle. And Warren… Well, Warren's been an asshole, which admittedly did not lend any weight to my theory."

Magenta gave a wry smile at the predictable death-glare Warren threw in her direction.

"So… you're _Lash_?" Will's face was a mask of confusion as he looked at the boy he had just been kissing.

"Dammit, Will!" Magenta said with a small sigh. "It's a good job you're pretty, because you ain't going win yourself any Einstein awards. Sheesh!"

Lash snickered and Will flung him across the Holo-Room.

"Stronghold! I'm going to need that body back sometime, y'know!" Warren said warningly.

"B-but he… he… but… but…" Will stuttered. His arms were shaking.

"Yeah," Maj smiled. "We saw."

Will winced, his paled cheeks now flooding with colour.

"Oh, and Will? You might want to put some clothes on?" she added with a laugh, cocking her head towards the tattered, burnt piece of cotton that remained of his t-shirt. Layla scowled. Magenta was enjoying this far too much. She personally did not find this even vaguely amusing.

* * *

With the force that Layla hurled the door of the Mad Science lab open, Warren and Lash were surprised that the glass didn't shatter. She grabbed Warren and Lash by the ears and pulled them into the classroom to a chorus of 'ows', her pacifist beliefs hanging by a slender thread. 

"This is highly intricate and complex work!" Mr Medulla reproached, emerging from the mindswapper, holding a telescopic chrome device with strange attachments. "Would you please refrain from rampaging through the laboratory like a herd of baby elephants?"

Layla smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, sorry to disturb you. We're just checking on the progress of your repairs to this wonderful invention. I'm sure the International Confederation of Metahumans is as anxious as we are…"

The device shook a little in Medulla's hand.

"And they must have been so impressed when you presented pledgerin to the ethics committee. Really, you are a man of many talents, Mr Medulla."

Warren wasn't sure what he found more disconcerting, angry and incoherent Layla or angry and articulate Layla.

Mr Medulla coughed. "Ahem! Yes, well fortunately for all concerned I found a new supplier of high-quality ionic crystals who was able to ship them to me a couple of days ago. I almost have the mindswapper back to full functionality…"

"Somehow, I don't think 'almost' is _quite_ going to cut it, Mr Medulla." There was no sweetness in Layla's voice now.

"I have been working to my limit and beyond for the last week! I have been practically sleeping in this laboratory – I didn't even go home at the weekend!"

Mr Medulla saw that he was wasting his breath. He was not going to be getting any sympathy from these three. Indeed, he felt as if he were one small step from being lynched.

"One hour," he pleaded. "Just give me one hour."

For the next sixty minutes, they sat in stony silence. Layla trying to banish the worryingly satisfying thoughts of strangling Warren with vines. Warren plotting how he could set Lash on fire without getting arrested. Lash firmly thinking of anything, _anything_, other than the feel of Stronghold's mouth on his.

Finally, they stepped into the silver chamber they found themselves trapped in a week ago. Mr Medulla shut the door behind them, covering them in darkness. A shrill buzz stabbed their eardrums, shaking through every nerve. Multicoloured fireworks bloomed from beneath their eyelids and seemed to splinter through their brains. A nauseating, wrenching sensation overwhelmed them, knocking them off their feet. Gradually, the buzzing died away, and the pain dissipated. The chamber door clunked open, light from the laboratory pouring into the dark.

The three of them stumbled back into the classroom. Lash looked down at his hands like he had never seen them before. He stretched an arm and touched the high ceiling of the lab. Warren's body was so cumbersome and restrictive, even if the flame thing was cool. Nothing could compare to the fluid, easy movements he achieved with his elasticated limbs. With such freedom, anything seemed possible. The sky really was the limit. He grinned. _Yup, I'm back_!

Layla softly shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. The energy from the plants on the school grounds rushed through her, it was like the beat of a hundred hearts was pumping her veins. A sense that had been dead to her for the last week had been resurrected. She could compare it to feeling like a blind person whose vision had suddenly been restored, but that dull analogy did not even scratch the surface. It was… beautiful.

Warren smiled as Layla wiped away a tear. He wasn't about to start crying, but he knew how the hippie felt. With a quick flex of his fingers, the familiar heat washed over him and burst from his skin, his fist a ball of fire. He looked at the flames like he had run into a long-lost friend. How could he have ever hated this? He finally understood that fire was rooted in his soul. He never wanted to be without it again.

Mr Medulla clapped his hands together with forced jollity. "Everything is back to normal. Excellent. So, shall we just forget all this unpleasantness?"

"On one condition," said Layla, crossing her arms. "Warren gets to blast the mindswapper and you never, ever rebuild it. No-one should have to be put through an experience like this. As I'm sure the International Confederation would agree."

They could almost hear the rapid inner-workings of the mad scientist's super-sized brain. The destruction of a pioneering innovation versus global disgrace. His nostrils flared as he assessed the pros and cons of each. A vein twitched horribly on his forehead.

"Very well, have it your way," he surrendered through gritted teeth. "But this is never mentioned again. Don't forget that you three broke into my classroom and attempted to appropriate an exam paper. None of us are stainless in this matter."

Layla smiled triumphantly. "Warren, would you do the honours?"

Orange flames shot up from the pyro's hands. "Gladly."

* * *

"Hey, Peace, is that you?" 

Warren nodded at Magenta, who was stood beside Zach as she leaned on the wall outside of Medulla's classroom.

"Will's been hiding in the boy's locker room. You should go talk to him."

Warren did not want to see Will right now. He couldn't understand what had happened between him and Lash in the Holo-Room, but he knew it had to be Lash's doing. Why couldn't everything just be like it was before? His life was a damn sight easier when Will was his archememy. Emptier, but easier.

"Go on…" Magenta smiled encouragingly.

"Shall we go get one of the late buses?" she asked Zach as Warren disappeared down the corridor. "Who knows how long those two are going to be and Will can always fly them both home."

Zach looked as if he were trying to solve a particularly difficult Mad Science equation.

"So… Will and Warren… are…"

"Gay? Looks like it."

"But how?" asked Zach, his eyebrows shooting up. "When? How?"

"That's two 'hows', Zach. Not a problem is it?" Magenta regarded him steadily.

"No," he said quickly. "No way. 'Course not. I'm cool with it, I mean whatever."

"Zach, gay superheroes are hardly uncommon," she said sagely. "I mean, all the ingredients are there – the body-building, the tight spandex, the whole homoerotic sidekick/hero dynamic…"

"Like since when were heroes and their 'kicks… umm… homoerotic?" asked Zach, a note of alarm in his voice.

"Two words for you, Zach Attack: Darkflight and Canaryboy."

"N-oo!" Zach protested. "Darkflight was married to the Valkyrie for years!"

"Yeah. A conveniently _childless_ marriage that ended in divorce and Darkflight spent his retirement with Canaryboy!" Maj rejoined.

"As friends!"

"Oh yeah, bosom buddies! Denial, much?"

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and looped her arm around his.

"Don't worry," Magenta said with a mischievous grin. "I'll protect you from those über-butch hero types that want your hot body!"

Zach still looked puzzled. "And is Lash gay too?"

Magenta looked over to where he and Layla were talking further down the corridor. Well, they were not so much talking as they were feet shuffling, blushing and determinedly avoiding each other's eyes… Oh, no.

"No, Lash isn't gay," she said with certainty. "He's just a jerk."

Zach followed her gaze and grasped his girlfriend's meaning with unusual acuity. "Did I wake up in some bizarro parallel universe this morning? First Will and Warren, now Layla and Lash?"

Magenta sighed. "Sometimes women are unaccountably attracted to bastards. And Layla Williams is the patron saint of lost causes. Maybe it'll do her good to have a little villain reformation project."

* * *

Layla's brows were knitted together. Lash could see the question in her eyes before she even said the words. 

"Um, why was Will kissing you?"

He sighed. There seemed to be little point in lying to her. "Because I asked him to."

"Huh. Seems like everyone wants to kiss Will Stronghold." Layla sounded uncharacteristically sour.

"I didn't want him to do it!"

"Right. You asked him to kiss you, but you didn't want him to. Of course, that makes perfect sense!" she said sarcastically.

"I… thought it would be funny…" Lash's voice trailed off as he appreciated how pathetic this sounded. "I didn't expect him to oblige!" he added vehemently.

Layla studied Lash's bemused and horrified expression and started to laugh.

"You know, I'm not sure why I'm laughing," she said between giggles. "This really isn't funny."

"No. It really isn't," Lash agreed, but despite himself he was smiling too.

Her smile soon faded, her eyes becoming melancholy.

"I guess I always knew on some level why Will was never that into me," Layla sighed. "I just didn't want to admit it."

Lash could sense the sadness hanging over Layla. For some unfathomable reason it made him feel angry for her.

"If it's any consolation, Stronghold is an idiot."

Layla laughed. "No he isn't, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Lash thought she was wrong. Stronghold _was_ an idiot. Layla was… well, she was something else. To dump her for Peace? What was that about? Well, he was gay, but still.

There was a lot Lash wanted to thank Layla for. For making him realise that his dad was OK, for the kindness she had shown him when she found out about his mom… but the words didn't seem to want to form themselves on his lips. All he could manage was to smile at her stupidly. Layla smiled back. It was a great smile. Actually, Lash thought, she'd be really quite pretty if she wasn't such an annoying, preachy, eco-mentalist.

"Uh… If you want to… although, you know, it's cool if you don't… I mean I don't mind… but if you're free… um… don't worry if you're busy or whatever… but would you like to… um… maybe… uh… hang out with me later? Y'know, maybe go get a coffee or something?"

Layla waded through the mire ums and uhs, her brow crinkling. Was Lash asking her out? On a _date_?

"Oh," she said, slightly taken aback. "Well, I don't actually drink coffee…"

"OK," said Lash in an overly-nonchalant voice. "No problem. Guess I'll…uh… just see you around, then?"

He turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets and screwing his eyes shut. If only he could turn invisible and disappear right now, or if only he had phasing abilities, so the ground really could swallow him whole. God, why was he so stupid? Of course she didn't want to. He had bullied two of her friends, then, driven by jealousy and spite, hatched a plot to discredit her ex-boyfriend, who also happened to be her best friend, and then ended up kissing said ex-boyfriend/best friend in another failed attempt to ruin things for him. Lash wasn't a nice person. Layla knew that. Everyone knew that. Girls like her just didn't go for guys like him.

"But I wouldn't say no to some herbal tea," Layla called out after him.

"Herbal tea?" asked Lash, a small grin breaking across his face. "Hippie, that is _weak_."

He was suddenly, inexplicably struck by the unwelcome thought that she had seen him without any clothes on. Irritatingly, Lash felt his cheeks grow hot at this realisation. He saw that Layla was blushing too. Maybe she was thinking the same thing? He blushed harder. Ugh, why was this so excruciating? It wasn't like this yesterday. _But she wasn't this pretty yesterday_ his brain informed him.

"You should try cutting out caffeine," Layla said reprovingly, eventually breaking the uncomfortable, mounting silence. "It's really bad for you, you know, but if you do have to drink coffee you should at least make sure it's fair trade stuff."

Lash rolled his eyes and groaned. Prettier, maybe. Less annoying, no.

* * *

Lash is a complete bastard, thought Warren as he stood awkwardly in the locker room. He'd fucked everything up spectacularly. Will didn't even seem able to look at him, much less talk to him. 

"Warren," said Will finally, his voice full of apprehension. "There's something I need to tell you. Something important." Will fixed his gaze on his sneakers. "It's about… me… and Layla."

Oh, here we go, Warren thought.

"Don't bother, Stronghold," Warren said coldly. "I know what you're going to say, and frankly I don't want to hear it."

Will looked hurt. "Really, you do?" He was barely audible.

"Yeah. You've realised you made a mistake with Layla and now you're going to marry her and she's gonna have your superstrong, horticultural babies."

Will laughed and Warren felt a blistering heat in his fingers.

"God, Warren. You almost sound jealous."

"No," Warren snorted. "What, you think I'm in love with you or something?" He was careful to sound dismissive, scornful… but, was he in love with Will? He didn't know, but seeing him with Lash filled him with a jealousy and yearning that made him feel physically ill.

"No, of course I don't think that," Will said quickly, looking uncomfortable. "Look, Warren, this is really difficult for me. Please, just let me finish. I've got to say this, it's just killing me."

He looked at Warren with his dark blue eyes. "You've got it all wrong. It's not Layla I want." Will took a deep breath and turned away. "It's… you."

No. No way. He must've misheard him. This wasn't possible.

"You… you want _me_?" Warren asked slowly, disbelievingly.

"Yeah. It's the whole 'I love her but I'm not _in_ love with her' dealie with Layla," Will said, sitting down heavily on a bench. He chewed his lip in that way that Warren knew meant he was either concentrating really hard or felt incredibly nervous. "It's you that I want."

Will rested his head in his hands. "You don't know how happy I was when I thought I was kissing you just now. You don't know how much I'd thought about it. Then I find out that it wasn't even you. It was…" Will shuddered, "… Lash."

Warren was rendered momentarily speechless by Will's admission.

"This has just been eating me up inside. I know you don't feel the same, but if we could still just be friends… I wasn't sure if me and Layla would be able to be friends again after the split. I know how much I've hurt her… But, I didn't want you to end up hating me too..."

"Stronghold…" Warren finally managed to squeeze a word in when Will took a breath, but Will carried on as if he hadn't heard him.

"Then there's the whole issue about what my parents are going to say when they find out that I'm..." Will gulped, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. "You should've seen Dad's face last year when I told him I was put on the sidekick track. He was so disappointed..."

Will stopped then looked around the locker room wildly, twisting his fingers in his damp hair, as if he had just comprehended the magnitude of the situation. "Oh, God, oh, God… I don't think I can breathe…"

"Will…" Warren said gently, interrupting Will's burgeoning panic attack.

That rare use of his first name from Warren instantly silenced the babbling teen. Will looked like he was about to burst into tears. Or throw up. Knowing what a drama queen Stronghold could be, Warren thought it was highly possible for him to be contemplating both.

Warren sat next to him, accidentally nudging Will's shoulder with his own. Will shrunk back, as if he were startled by that brief moment of contact.

"But we _did_ kiss," he reminded Will in a low voice. "When I was in Layla's body last Friday, remember?"

"Oh," said Will, then his eyes widened. "_Oh._"

Will's lips curved into a shy, hopeful smile that made Warren's stomach flip.

"But it wasn't quite how I wanted it to be," Warren informed him.

"And how… would you want it to be?"

Warren couldn't help but laugh at Will's keen expression. "Angling for a demonstration, hey Stronghold?"

For once Will was quiet, but it was clear from the look he was giving Warren what the answer to that question was. _Will wanted him_… As he breathed in Will's freshly-showered, soapy scent, Warren was painfully aware that he was still sweaty from Lash's session in the Holo-Room and was in need of a good shower himself. He suddenly felt curiously embarrassed by this, and embarrassed by this new turn in their relationship. He was both thrilled and terrified in equal measure.

Unable to stand it any longer, Warren made the first move, his hand tilting Will's face towards his. Will shivered, despite the fact that the flames were all but bursting from Warren's scalding fingertips. Warren inhaled sharply, suddenly finding that now he was the one struggling to breathe. He closed his eyes and felt Will initially smile into their first real kiss, but this smile soon melted in the blinding heat. He took Will's pouty lower lip sweetly into his mouth, causing the younger boy to let out a soft moan. Nothing else mattered, it was just the two of them, losing themselves in the moment, in each other. Will's fingers gently swirled over the nape of Warren's neck, then tangled through his hair as Warren's hands crept across Will's well-worked shoulders.

It wasn't long before the tenderness gave way to raw intensity, their mouths and their hands becoming urgent, forceful. Will grasped at Warren's t-shirt, delving beneath the fabric and running his hands on his chest. Before Warren even realised what was happening, fire exploded from his palms, blazing and dancing along his forearms. With a significant amount of effort, he forced the flames down, the small part of his brain still capable of rational thought grateful that Will was fireproof. Warren felt dizzy. He was finally kissing Will the way he imagined in his deepest, darkest daydreams and it felt so intoxicating. So _right_.

After an indeterminate amount of time, they finally broke apart and sat trying to catch their breath.

"Looks like I'm going to need another shirt," Will observed as he tugged at the charred, slightly smoking scrap of material hanging off his torso.

Warren arched a dark eyebrow at him and smiled one of his rare, luminous smiles. As Will's face turned scarlet for the umpteenth time that day, Warren was glad that he wasn't prone to blushing now he was back in his own body.

"Do you care?"

"No," Will murmured in reply, pulling Warren in for another burning kiss.

_**End**_

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A/N

And so it ends… I'm happy that I can now lay this pesky plot bunny to rest, but I am a little sad that it's all over. I really had fun writing this fic.

Thanks to all of you who have been reading this, but special thanks, of course, to the lovely, lovely people that reviewed (especially you multiple reviewers!) All your comments really meant a lot to me and helped me maintain my motivation!

Even though it's finished, I still would love to know what you think (hint, hint!)

Take care and much love to you all…

**_AzulTigress _**


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